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THE Fi it E- WORSHIPPERS .... 127 

'I'm. LIGHT OF THE II A HAM , . 202 



THE Poem, or Romance, of LALLA EOOKH, having now 
reached, I understand, its twentieth edition, a short ac- 
count of the origin and progress of a work which has 
been hitherto so very fortunate in its course may not be 
deemed, perhaps, superfluous or misplaced. 

It was about the year 1812, that, far more through the 
encouraging suggestions of friends than from any confi- 
dent promptings of my own ambition, I conceived the 
design of writing a Poem upon some Oriental subject, 
and of those quarto dimensions which Scott's successful 
publications in that form had then rendered the regular 
poetical standard. A negotiation on the subject was 
opened with the Messrs. Longman in the same year; 
but, from some causes which I cannot now recollect, led 
to no decisive result ; nor was it till a year or two after, 
that any further steps were taken in the matter, their 
house being the only one, it is right to add, with which, 
from first to last, 1 held any communication upon the 

On this last occasion, Mr. Perry kindly offered himself 
as my representative in the treaty; and, what with the 
friendly zeal of my negotiator on the one side, and 
the prompt and liberal spirit with which lie was met on 
the other, there lias seldom, I think, occurred any transac- 
tion in which Trade and Poesy have shone out so advanta- 



geously in each other's eyes. The short discussion that 
then took place, between the two parties, may be com- 
prised in a very few sentences. " I am of opinion," said 
Mr. Perry, enforcing his view of the case by arguments 
which it is not for me to cite, " that Mr. Moore ought 
to receive for his Poem the largest price that has been 
given, in our day, for such a work." " That was," an- 
swered the Messrs. Longman, " three thousand guineas." 
"Exactly so," replied Mr. Perry, "and no less a sum 
ought he to receive." 

It was then objected, and very reasonably, on the part 
of the firm, that they had never yet seen a single line of 
the Poem ; and that a perusal of the work ought to be 
allowed to them, before they embarked so large a sum in 
the purchase. But, no ; the romantic view which my 
friend Perry took of the matter, was, that this price 
should be given as a tribute to reputation already acquired, 
without any condition for a previous perusal of the new 
work. This high tone, I must confess, not a little startled 
and alarmed me ; but, to the honor and glory of Eomance, 
as well on the publishers' side as the poet's, this 
very generous view of the transaction was, without any 
difficulty, acceded to, and the firm agreed, before we sep- 
arated, that I was to receive three thousand guineas for 
my Poem. 

At the time of this agreement, but little of the work, 
as it stands at present, had yet been written. But the 
ready confidence in my success shown by others, made up 
for the deficiency of that requisite feeling within myself ; 
while a strong desire not wholly to disappoint this "au- 
guring hope," became almost a substitute for inspiration. 
In the year 1815, therefore, having made some progress 
in my task, I wrote to report the state of the work to 
the Messrs. Longman, adding, that I was now most willing 
and ready, should they desire it, to submit the manuscript 


for their consideration. Their answer to this offer was as 
follows : " We are certainly impatient for the perusal of 
the Poem ; but solely for our gratification. Your senti- 
ments are always honorable." * 

I continued to pursue my task for another year, being 
likewise occasionally occupied with the Irish Melodies, 
two or three numbers of which made their appearance 
during the period employed in writing Lalla Rookh. At 
length, in the year 1816, I found my work sufficiently 
advanced to be placed in the hands of the publishers. 
But the state of distress to which England was reduced, 
in that dismal year, by the exhausting effects of the series 
of wars she had just then concluded, and the general em- 
barrassment of all classes both agricultural and com- 
mercial, rendered it a juncture the least favorable that 
could well be conceived for the first launch into print of 
so light and costly a venture as Lalla Rookh. Feeling 
conscious, therefore, that under such circumstances I 
should act but honestly in putting it in the power of the 
Messrs. Longman to reconsider the terms of their engage- 
ment with me, leaving them free to postpone, modify, 
or even, should such be their wish, relinquish it alto- 
gether, I wrote them a letter to that effect, and received 
the following answer : " We shall be most happy in the 
pleasure of seeing you in February. We agree with you, 
indeed, that the times are most inauspicious for 'poetry 
and thousands ; ' but we believe that your poetry would 
do more than that of any other living poet at the present 
moment." f 

The length of time I employed in writing the few sto- 
ries strung together in Lalla Rookh will appear, to some 
persons, much more than was necessary for the production 
of such easy and "light o' love" fictions. lut, besides 
that I have been, at all times, a far more slow and pains* 

April 10, 1815. t November 9, 1810. 


taking workman than would ever be guessed, I fear, from 
the result, I felt that, in this instance, I had taken upon 
myself a more than ordinary responsibility, from the 
immense stake risked by others on my chance of success. 
For a long time, therefore, after the agreement had been 
concluded, though generally at work with a view to this 
task, I made but very little real progress in it ; and I 
have still by me the beginnings of several stories con- 
tinued, some of them, to the length of three or four 
hundred lines, which, after in vain endeavoring to mould 
them into shape, I threw aside, like the tale of Cambus- 
can, "left half-told." One of these stories, entitled The 
Peri's Daughter, was meant to relate the loves of a nymph 
of this aerial extraction with a youth of mortal race, the 
rightful Prince of Ormuz, who had been, from his infancy, 
brought up in seclusion, on the banks of the river Amou, 
by an aged guardian named Mohassan. The story opens 
with the first meeting of these destined lovers, then in 
their childhood ; the Peri having wafted her daughter to 
this holy retreat, in a bright, enchanted boat, whose first 
appearance is thus described : 

For, down the silvery tide afar, 
There came a boat, as swift and bright 

As shines, in heav'n, some pilgrim-star, 
That leaves its own high home, at night, 
To shoot to distant shrines of light. 

"It comes, it comes," young Orian cries, 
And panting to Mohassan flies. 
Then, down npon the flowery grass 
Keclines to see the vision pass ; 
With partly joy and partly fear, 
To find its wondrous light so near, 
And hiding oft his dazzled eyes 
Among the flowers on which he lies. 


Within the boat a baby slept, 

Like a young pearl within its shell ; 
While one, who seem'd of riper years, 
But not of earth, or earth-like spheres, 

Her watch beside the sluraberer kept; 

Gracefully waving, in her hand, 
The feathers of some holy bird, 
With which, from time to time, she stirr'd 

The fragrant air, and coolly fann'd 

The baby's brow, or brush'd away 
The butterflies that, bright and blue 

As on the mountains of Malay, 
Around the sleeping infant flew. 

And now the fairy boat hath stopp'd 
Beside the bank, the nymph has dropp'd 
Her golden anchor in the stream; 

A song is sung by the Peri in approaching, of which 
the following forms a part : 

My child she is but half divine, 
Her father sleeps in the Caspian water; 
Sea-weeds twine 
His funeral shrine, 

But he lives again in the Peri's daughter. 
Fain would I fly from mortal sight 

To my own sweet bowers of Peristan; 
But, there, the flowers are all too bright 

For the eyes of a baby born of man. 
On flowers of earth her feet must tread; 
So hither my light-wing'd bark hath brought her; 
Stranger, spread 
Thy leafiest bed, 
To rest the wandering Peri's daughter. 

In another of these inchoate fragments, a proud 
female saint, named lianou, plays a principal part; and 
her progress through the streets of Cufa, on the night 
of a great illuminated festival, I find thus described : 


It was a scene of mirth that drew 

A smile from ev'n the Saint Banou, 

As, through the hush'd, admiring throng, 

She went with stately steps along, 

And counted o'er, that all might see, 

The rubies of her rosary. 

But none might see the worldly smile 

That lurk'd beneath her veil, the while: 

Alia forbid ! for, who would wait 

Her blessing at the temple's gate, 

What holy man would ever run 

To kiss the ground she knelt upon, 

If once, by luckless chance, he knew 

She look'd and smil'd as others do ? 

Her hands were join'd, and from each wrist 

By threads of pearl and golden twist 

Hung relics of the saints of yore, 

And scraps of talismanic lore, 

Charms for the old, the sick, the frail, 

Some made for use, and all for sale. 

On either side, the crowd withdrew, 

To let the Saint pass proudly through; 

While turban' d heads of every hue, 

Green, white, and crimson, bow'd around, 

And gay tiaras touch'd the ground, 

As tulip-bells, when o'er their beds 

The musk-wind passes, bend their heads. 

Nay, some there were, among the crowd 

Of Moslem heads that round her bow'd, 

So fill'd with zeal, by many a draught 

Of Shiraz wine profanely quaff'd, 

That, sinking low in reverence then, 

They never rose till morn again. 

There are yet two more of these unfinished sketches, 
one of which extends to a much greater length than I 
was aware of ; and, as far as I can judge from a hasty 
renewal of my acquaintance with it, is not incapable of 
being yet turned to account. 

In only one of these unfinished sketches, the tale of 
The Peri's Daughter, had I yet ventured to invoke that 


most home-felt of all my inspirations, which has lent to 
the story of The Fire-worshippers its main attraction 
and interest. That it was my intention, in the concealed 
Prince of Ormuz, to shadow out some impersonation of 
this feeling, I take for granted from the prophetic words 
supposed to be addressed to him by his aged guardian : 

Bright child of destiny! even now 
I read the promise on that brow, 
That tyrants shall no more defile 
The glories of the Green Sea Isle, 
But Onnuz shall again be free, 
And hail her native Lord in thee! 

In none of the other fragments do I find any trace of 
this sort of feeling, either in the subject or the person- 
ages of the intended story; and this was the reason, 
doubtless, though hardly known, at the time, to myself, 
that, finding my subjects so slow in kindling my own 
sympathies, I began to despair of their ever touching the 
hearts of others ; and felt often inclined to say : 

" Oh no, I have no voice or hand 
For such a song, in such a land." 

Had this series of disheartening experiments been car- 
ried on much further, I must have thrown aside the work 
in despair. But, at last, fortunately, as it proved, the 
thought occurred to me of founding a story on the fierce 
struggle so long maintained l>etween the Ghebers,* or 
ancient Fire-worshippers of Persia, and their haughty 
Moslem masters. From that moment, a new and deep 
interest in my whole task took possession of me. The 

Voltaire, in his tragedy of "Los Guebres," written with a 
similar under-ourn-nt of meaning, was arcusod of having trans- 
formed liis Firo-worshipprrs into .lansonists. "(Juolqiies figu- 
ristcs," he says, "pre"tendent quo ls CJuM>ros son! los .lansrnistes." 


cause of tolerance was again my inspiring theme; and 
the spirit that had spoken in the melodies of Ireland 
soon found itself at home in the East. 

Having thus laid open the secrets of the workshop to 
account for the time expended in writing this work, I 
must also, in justice to my own industry, notice the pains 
I took in long and laboriously reading for it. To form a 
storehouse, as it were, of illustration purely Oriental, and 
so familiarize myself with its various treasures, that, as 
quick as Fancy required the aid of fact, in her spiritings, 
the memory was ready, like another Ariel, at her "strong 
bidding," to furnish materials for the spell-work, such 
was, for a long while, the sole object of my studies ; and 
whatever time and trouble this preparatory process may 
have cost me, the effects resulting from it, as far as the 
humble merit of truthfulness is concerned, have been 
such as to repay me more than sufficiently for my pains. 
I have not forgotten how great was my pleasure, when 
told by the late Sir James Mackintosh, that he was once 

asked by Colonel "VV s, the historian of British India, 

" whether it was true that Moore had never been in the 
East ? " " Never," answered Mackintosh. " Well, that 

shows me," replied Colonel W s, " that reading over 

D'Herbelot is as good as riding on the back of a camel." 

I need hardly subjoin to this lively speech, that, al- 
though D'Herbelot's valuable work was, of course, one of 
my manuals, I took the whole range of all such Oriental 
reading as was accessible to me ; and became, for the 
time, indeed, far more conversant with all relating to that 
distant region, than I have ever been with the scenery, 
productions, or modes of life of any of those countries 
lying most within my reach. We know that D'Anville, 
though never in his life out of Paris, was able to correct 
a number of errors in a plan of the Troad taken by De 
Choiseul, on the spot ; and for my own very different, as 


well as far inferior, purposes, the knowledge I had thus 
acquired of distant localities, seen only by me in my day- 
dreams, was no less ready and useful. 

An ample reward for all this painstaking has been 
found in such welcome tributes as I have just now cited ; 
nor can I deny myself the gratification of citing a few 
more of the same description. From another distin- 
guished authority on Eastern subjects, the late Sir John 
Malcolm, I had myself the pleasure of hearing a similar 
opinion publicly expressed ; that eminent person, in a 
speech spoken by him at a Literary Fund Dinner, having 
remarked, that together with those qualities of a poet 
which he much too partially assigned to me was combined 
also " the truth of the historian." 

Sir William Ouseley, another high authority, in giving 
his testimony to the same effect, thus notices an excep- 
tion to the general accuracy for which he gives me credit : 
"Dazzled by the beauties of this composition,* few 
readers can perceive, and none surely can regret, that the 
pott, in his magnificent catastrophe, has forgotten, or 
boldly and most happily violated, the precept of Zoro- 
aster, above noticed, which held it impious to consume 
any portion of a human body by fire, especially by that 
which glowed upon their altars." Having long lost, I 
fear, most of my Eastern learning, I can only cite, in de- 
fence of my catastrophe, an old Oriental tradition, which 
relates that Nimro ., when Abraham refused, ;it his com- 
mand, to worship he fire, ordi'ml him to be thrown into 
the midst of the flames, f A precedent so ancient for 
this sort of use of the worshipped element, would appear, 
for all purposes at least of poetry, fully sufficient. 

The Fire-worshippers. 

t " TIM hint .-mil in Hclini-i hanc fabulam, quod Abraham in 
ignem missus sit, quia igncin utloraru noluit." Sr. HIKKO.N. in 
Qua; at. in (Jcnenm. 


In addition to these agreeable testimonies, I have also 
heard, and need hardly add, with some pride and pleasure, 
that parts of this work have been rendered into Persian, 
and have found their way to Ispahan. To this fact, as 
I am willing to think it, allusion is made in some lively 
verses, written many years since, by my friend Mr. 
Luttrell : - 

" I'm told, dear Moore, your lays are sung, 

(Can it be true, you lucky man ?) 
By moonlight, in the Persian tongue, 
Along the streets of Ispahan." 

That some knowledge of the work may have really 
reached that region appears not improbable from a pas- 
sage in the Travels of Mr. Frazer, who says, that " being 
delayed for some time at a town on the shores of the 
Caspian, he was lucky enough to be able to amuse him- 
self with a copy of Lalla Eookh, which a Persian had 
lent him." 

Of the description of Balbec, in "Paradise and the 
Peri," Mr. Carne, in his Letters from the East, thus 
speaks : " The description in Lalla Eookh of the plain 
and its ruins is exquisitely faithful. The minaret is on 
the declivity near at hand, and there wanted only the 
muezzin's cry to break the silence." 

I shall now tax my reader's patience with but one 
more of these generous vouchers. Whatever of vanity 
there may be in citing such tributes, they show, at least, 
of what great value, even in poetry, is that prosaic qual- 
ity, industry ; since, as the reader of the foregoing pages 
is now fully apprised, it was in a slow and laborious col- 
lection of small facts, that the first foundations of this 
fanciful Romance were laid. 

The friendly testimony I have just referred to, ap- 
peared, some years since, in the form in which I now give 
it, and, if I recollect right, in the Athenceum : 


" I embrace this opportunity of bearing my individual testimony 
(if it be of any value) to the extraordinary accuracy of Mr. Moore, 
in his topographical, antiquarian, and characteristic details, whether 
of costume, manners, or less changing monuments, both in his 
Lai I a Rookli and in the Epicurean. It has been my fortune to read 
his Atlantic, Bernmdean, and American Odes and Epistles, in the 
countries and among the people to which and to whom they re- 
lated; I enjoyed also the exquisite delight of reading his Lalla 
Rookh, in Persia itself; and I have perused the Epicurean, while 
all my recollections of Egypt and its still existing wonders are as 
fresh as when I quitted the hanks of the Nile for Arabia: I owe 
it, therefore, as a debt of gratitude (though the payment is most inad- 
equate), for the great pleasure I have derived from his productions, 
to bear my humble testimony to their local fidelity. " J. S. B." 

Among the incidents connected with this work, I 
must not omit to notice the splendid Divertissement, 
founded upon it, which was acted at the Chateau Royal 
of Berlin, during the visit of the Grand Duke Nicholas 
to that capital, in the year 1822. The different stories 
composing the work were represented in Tableaux Vivans 
and songs ; and among the crowd of royal and noble per- 
sonages engaged in the performances, 1 shall mention 
those only who represented the principal characters, and 
whom I find thus enumerated in the published account 
of the Divertissement.* 

" Fadladin, Grand-Nasir . . Cotnte Unnck \~Mari-chal de Coitr). 
Aliris, Roi de Rncharie . . .S. A. 1. le. Crnnd-Dnr. 
Lalla Houkh ..... S. A. I. Id 

( S. A. It. le Prince (iuillttnme. 
Aarnngzeb, le Grand Moral 

I frt'rc du Hoi. 

Abdallah, PtVe d' Aliris . . 8. A. li. If Due <!< Cumlterlaml. 

( S. A. li. la Princexse Louise 
La Heine, son opouse . . < ,. , , ... 

( Itailzinll." 

Lalla Ronkh. Divertissement mele" de Chants et de Pauses, 
Berlin, 1822. The work contain* a serif* of colored engraving*, rep- 
resenting groups, processions. etc.. in different Oriental costumes. 


Besides these and. other leading personages, there were 
also brought into action, under the various denomina- 
tions of Seigneurs et Dames de Bucharie, Dames de 
Cachemire, Seigneurs et Dames dansans & la Fete des 
Roses, etc., nearly 150 persons. 

Of the manner and style in Avhich the Tableaux of the 
different stories are described in the work from which I 
cite, the following account of the performance of Para- 
dise and the Peri will afford some specimen : 

"La decoration representoit les portes brillantes du 
Paradis, entourees de nuages. Dans le premier tableau 
on voyoit la Peri, triste et desolee, couchee sur le seuil 
des portes fermees, et 1'Ange de lumiere qui lui adresse 
des consolations et des conseils. Le second represente 
le moment ou la Peri, dans 1'espoir que ce don lui ouvrira 
1'entree du Paradis, rucueille la derniere goutte de sang 
que vient de verser le jeune guerrier indien. . . . 

" La Peri et 1' Ange de lumiere repondoient pleinement 
a 1'image et a 1'idee cpi'on est tente de se faire de ces 
deux individus, et 1'impression qu'a faite generalement 
la suite des tableaux de cet episode delicat et interessant 
est loin de s'effacer de notre souvenir." 

In this grand Fete, it appears, originated the transla- 
tion of Lalla Rookh into German * verse, by the Baron 
de la Motte Fouque ; and the circumstances which led 
him to undertake the task, are described by himself in a 
Dedicatory Poem to the Empress of Russia, which he 
has prefixed to his translation. As soon as the perform- 
ance, he tells us, had ended, Lalla Rookh (the Empress 
herself) exclaimed, with a sigh, "Is it, then, all over? 
Are we now at the close of all that has given us so 
much delight ? and lives there no poet who will impart 

* Since this was written, another translation of Lalla Rookh 
into German verse has been made by Theodor Oelckers (Leipzig, 


to others, and to future times, some notion of the happi- 
ness we have enjoyed this evening ? " On hearing this 
appeal a Knight of Cashmere (who is no other than the 
poetical Baron himself) comes forward and promises to 
attempt to present to the world " the Poem itself in the 
measure of the original : " whereupon Lalla Kookh, it 
is added, approvingly smiled. 


Ix the eleventh year of the reign of Aurungzebe, Ab- 
dalla, King of the Lesser Bucharia, a lineal descendant 
from the Great Zingis, having abdicated the throne in 
favor of his son, set out on a pilgrimage to the Shrine 
of the Prophet; and, passing into India through the 
delightful valley of Cashmere, rested for a short time at 
Delhi on his way. He was entertained by Aurungzebe 
in a style of magnificent hospitality, worthy alike of the 
visitor and the host, and was afterwards escorted with 
the same splendor to Surat, where he embarked for 
Arabia. 1 During the stay of the Royal Pilgrim at Delhi, 
a marriage was agreed upon between the Prince, his son, 
and the youngest daughter of the emperor, LALLA. 
ROOKH ; 2 a Princess described by the Poets of her 
time as more beautiful than Leila, 8 Shirine, 4 Dewilde, 6 or 
any of those heroines whose names and loves embellish 
the songs of Persia and Hindostan. It was intended 
that the nuptuals should be celebrated at Cashmere; 
where the young King, as soon as the cares of empire 
would (HTinit, was to meet, for the first time, his lovely 
bride, and, after a few months' repose in that enchanting 
valley, conduct her over the snowy hills into Bucharia. 

The day of LALLA ROOK it's departure from Delhi was 
as splendid as sunshine and pageantry could make it. 
The bazaars and baths were all covered with the richest 



tapestry; hundreds of gilded barges upon the Jumna 
floated with their banners shining in the water ; while 
through the streets groups of beautiful children went 
strewing the most delicious flowers around, as in that 
Persian festival called the Scattering of the Eoses ; 6 till 
every part of the city was as fragrant as if a caravan of 
musk from Khoten had passed through it. The Princess, 
having taken leave of her kind father, who at parting 
hung a cornelian of Yemen round her neck, on which 
was inscribed a verse from the Koran, and having sent 
a considerable present to the Fakirs, who kept up the 
Perpetual Lamp in her sister's tomb, meekly ascended 
the palankeen prepared for her ; and, while Aurungzebe 
stood to take a last look from his balcony, the procession 
moved slowly on the road to Lahore. 

Seldom had the Eastern world seen a cavalcade so 
superb. From the gardens in the suburbs to the Impe- 
rial palace, it was one unbroken line of splendor. The 
gallant appearance of the Rajahs and Mogul Lords, dis- 
tinguished by those insignia of the Emperor's favor, 7 the 
feathers of the egret of Cashmere in their turbans, and 
the small silver-rimmed kettledrums at the bows of their 
saddles ; the costly armor of their cavaliers, who vied, 
on this occasion, with the guards of the great Keder 
Khan, 8 in the brightness of their silver battle-axes and 
the massiness of their maces of gold ; the glittering 
of the gilt pine-apples 9 on the tops of the palankeens ; 

the embroidered trappings of the elephants, bearing 
on their backs small turrets, in the shape of little antique 
temples, within which the Ladies of LALLA ROOKH lay 
as it were enshrined; the rose-colored veils of the 
Princess's own sumptuous litter, 10 at the front of which 
a fair young female slave sat fanning her through the 
curtains, with feathers of the Argus pheasant's wing; 11 

and the lovely troop of Tartarian and Cashmerian 


maids of honor, whom the young King had sent to ac- 
company his bride, and who rode on each side of the 
litter, upon small Arabian horses: all was brilliant, 
tasteful, and magnificent, and pleased even the critical 
and fastidious FADLADEEX, Great Nazir or Chamberlain 
of the Haram, who was borne in his palankeen imme- 
diately after the Princess, and considered himself not the 
least important personage of the pageant. 

FADLADEEN was a judge of everything, from the 
pencilling of a Circassian's eyelids to the deepest ques- 
tions of science and literature ; from the mixture of a 
conserve of rose-leaves to the composition of an epic 
poem : and such influence had his opinion upon the vari- 
ous tastes of the day, that all the cooks and poets of 
Delhi stood in awe of him. His political conduct and 
opinions were founded upon that line of Sadi, "Should 
the Prince at noon-day say, It is night, declare that you 
behold the moon and stars." And his zeal for religion, 
of which Aurungzebe was a munificent protector, 13 was 
about as disinterested as that of the goldsmith who fell in 
love with the diamond eyes of the Idol of Jaghernaut. 18 

During the first days of their journey, LALLA ROOKH, 
who had passed all her life within the shadow of the 
Royal Gardens of Delhi, 14 found enough in the beauty 
of the scenery through which they passed to interest her 
mind, and delight her imagination ; and when at evening 
or in the heat of the day, they turned off from the high 
road to those retired and romantic places which had been 
selected for her encampments, sometimes on the banks 
of a small rivulet, as clear as the waters of the Lake of 
Pearl; 14 sometimes under the sacred shade of a Banyan 
tree, from which the view ojw'ned upon a glade covered 
with antelopes; and often in those hidden, embowered 


spots, described by one from the Isles of the West, 16 as 
" places of melancholy, delight, and safety, where all the 
company around were wild peacocks and turtle-doves ; " 
she felt a charm in these scenes, so lovely and so new 
to her, which, for a time, made her indifferent to every 
other amusement. But LALLA EOOKH was young, and 
the young love variety ; nor could the conversation of 
her Ladies and the Great Chamberlain, FADLADEEN (the 
only persons of course admitted to her pavilion), suf- 
ficiently enliven those many vacant hours, which were 
devoted neither to the pillow nor the palankeen. There 
was a little Persian slave who sung sweetly to the Vina, 
and who, now and then, lulled the Princess to sleep with 
the ancient ditties of her country, about the loves of 
Wamak and Ezra, 17 the fair-haired Zal and his mistress 
Eodahver ; 18 not forgetting the combat of Rustam with 
the terrible White Demon. 19 At other times she was 
amused by those graceful dancing-girls of Delhi, who had 
been permitted by the Bramins of the Great Pagoda to 
attend her, much to the horror of the good Mussulman 
FADLADEEN, who could see nothing graceful or agreeable 
in idolaters, and to whom the very tinkling of their 
golden anklets 20 was an abomination. 

But these and many other diversions were repeated till 
they lost all their charm, and the nights and noon-days 
were beginning to move heavily, when, at length, it was 
recollected that, among the attendants sent by the bride- 
groom, was a young poet of Cashmere, much celebrated 
throughout the valley for his manner of reciting the 
Stories of the East, on whom his Royal Master had con- 
ferred the privilege of being admitted to the pavilion 
of the Princess, that he might help to beguile the 
tediousness of the journey by some of his agreeable 
recitals. At the mention of a poet, FADLADEEN ele- 


vated his critical eyebrows, and, having refreshed his 
faculties with a dose of that delicious opium 21 which is 
distilled from the black poppy of the Thebais, gave 
orders for the minstrel to be forthwith introduced into 
the presence. 

The Princess, who had once in her life seen a poet 
from behind the screens of gauze in her Father's hall, and 
had conceived from that specimen no very favorable ideas 
of the Caste, expected but little in this new exhibition 
to interest her ; she felt inclined, however, to alter her 
opinion on the very first appearance of FERAMOKZ. He 
was a youth about LALLA KOOKH'S own age, and graceful 
as that idol of women, Crislma, 22 such as he appears to 
their young imaginations, heroic, beautiful, breathing 
music from his very eyes, and exalting the religion of 
his worshippers into love. His dress was simple, yet not 
without some marks of costliness ; and the ladies of the 
Princess were not long in discovering that the cloth 
which encircled his high Tartarian cap was of the most 
delicate kind that the shawl-goats of Tibet supply. 28 
Here and there, too, over his vest, which was confined by 
a flowered girdle of Kashan, hung strings of tine pearl, 
disposed with an air of studied negligence : nor did the 
exquisite embroidery of his sandals escape the observa- 
tion of these fair critics; who, however they might give 
way to FADLADEEX upon the unimportant topics of re- 
ligion and government, had the spirit of martyrs in 
everything relating to such momentous matters as jewels 
and embroidery. 

For the purpose of relieving the pauses of recitation 
by music, the young Cashmerian held in his hand a kitar; 
such as, in old times, the Arab maids of the West used 
to listen to by moonlight in the gardens of the Alham- 


bra and having premised, with much humility, that the 
story he was about to relate was founded on the adven- 
tures of that Veiled Prophet of Khorassan 24 who, in the 
year of the Hegira 163, created such alarm throughout 
the Eastern Empire, made an obeisance to the Princess, 
and thus began : 


IN that delightful Province of the Sun, 

The first of Persian lands he shines upon, 

Where all the loveliest children of his beam, 

Flow'rets and fruits, blush over every stream, 28 

And, fairest of all streams, the MURGA roves 

Among MEKOU'S" bright palaces and groves; 

There on that throne, to which the blind belief 

Of millions rais'd him, sat the Prophet-Chief, 

The Great MOKAXNA. O'er his features hung 

The Veil, the Silver Veil, which he had flung 

In mercy there, to hide from mortal sight 

His dazzling brow, till man could bear its light. 

For, far less luminous, his votaries said, 

Were ev'n the gleams, miraculously shed 

O'er MoussA's 28 cheek, 29 when down the Mount he 

All glowing from the presence of his God ! 

On either side, with ready hearts and hands, 
His chosen guard of bold Believers stands ; 
Young fire-eyed disputants, who deem their swords, 
On points of faith, more eloquent than words ; 
And such their zeal, there's not a youth with brand 
Uplifted there, but, at the Chiefs command, 
Would make his own devoted heart its sheath, 
And bless the lij-s that dooiu'd so dear a death 1 
In hatred to the Caliph's hue of night, 80 


Their vesture, helms and all, is snowy white ; 

Their weapons various some equipp'd for speed, 

"With javelins of the light Kathaian reed ; 81 

Or bows of buffalo horn and shining quivers 

Fill'd with the stems 3 - that bloom on IRAN'S rivers ; 88 

While some, for war's more terrible attacks, 

Wield the huge mace and ponderous battle-axe ; 

And as they wave aloft in morning's beam 

The milk-white plumage of their helms, they seem 

Like a chenar-tree grove, 8 * when winter throws 

O'er all its tufted heads his feathering snows. 

Between the porphyry pillars, that uphold 
The rich moresque-work of the roof of gold, 
Aloft the Haram's curtain'd galleries rise, 
Where, through the silken network, glancing eyes, 
From time to time, like sudden gleams that glow 
Through autumn clouds, shine o'er the pomp below. . 
What impious tongue, ye blushing saints, would dare 
To hint that aught but Heaven hath placed you there ? 
Or that the loves of this light world could bind, 
In their gross chain, your Prophet's soaring mind ? 
No wrongful thought ! commissioned from above 
To people Eden's bowers with shapes of love, 
(Creatures so bright, that the same lips and eyes 
They wear on earth will serve in Paradise,) 
There to recline among Heaven's native maids, 
And crown the Elect with bliss that never fades 
Well hath the Prophet-Chief his bidding done ; 
And every beauteous race beneath the sun, 
From those who kneel at Brahma's burning founts, 35 
To the fresh nymphs bounding o'er YEMEN'S mounts j 
From PERSIA'S eyes of full and fawn-like ray 
To the small, half-shut glances of KATHAY ; 86 
And GEORGIA'S bloom, and AZAB'S darker smiles, 


And the gold ringlets of the Western Isles ; 

All, all are there ; each Land its flower hath given, 

To form that fair young Nursery for Heaven ! 

But why this pageant now ? this arm'd array ? 
What triumph crowds the rich Divan to-day 
With turban'd heads, of every hue and race, 
Bowing before that veil'd and awful face, 
Like tulip-beds, 87 of different shape and dyes, 
Bending beneath the invisible West-wind's sighs ! 
What new-made mystery now, for Faith to sign, 
And blood to seal, as genuine and divine, 
What dazzling mimicry of God's own power 
Hath the bold Prophet plann'd to grace this hour ? 

Not such the pageant now, though not less proud j 
Yon warrior youth, advancing from the crowd, 
With silver bow, with belt of broider'd crape, 
And fur-bound bonnet of Buchanan shape, 88 
So fiercely beautiful in form and eye, 
Like war's wild planet in a summer sky ; 
That youth to-day a proselyte, worth hordes 
Of cooler spirits and less practised swords 
Is come to join, all bravery and belief, 
The creed and standard of the heaven-sent Chief. 

Though few his years, the West already knows 
Young AZIM'S fame; beyond the Olympian snows, 
Ere manhood darken'd o'er his downy cheek, 
O'erwhelm'd in fight and captive to the Greek, 89 
He linger'd there, till peace dissolv'd his chains; 
Oh, who could, even in bondage, tread the plains 
Of glorious GKKKCK, nor feel his spirit rise 
Kindling within him ? who, with heart and eyes, 
Could walk where Liberty had Ix-en, nor see 


The shining footprints of her Deity, 

Nor feel those godlike breathings in the air, 

Which mutely told her spirit had been there ? 

Not he, that youthful warrior, no, too well 

For his som's quiet work'd the awakening spell ; 

And now, returning to his own dear land, 

Full of those dreams of good that, vainly grand, 

Haunt the young heart, proud views of human-kind, 

Of men to Gods exalted and refined, 

False views, like that horizon's fair deceit, 

Where earth and heaven but seem, alas, to meet ! 

Soon as he heard an Arm Divine was rais'd 

To right the nations, and beheld, emblaz'd 

On the white flag MOKANNA'S host unfurl'd, 

Those words of sunshine, " Freedom to the World," 

At once his faith, his sword, his soul obey'd 

The inspiring summons ; every chosen blade 

That fought beneath that banner's sacred text 

Seem'd doubly edg'd, for this world and the next ; 

And ne'er did Faith with her smooth bandage bind 

Eyes more devoutly willing to be blind, 

In virtue's cause ; never was soul inspir'd 

With livelier trust in what it most desir'd, 

Than his, the enthusiast there, who kneeling, pale 

With pious awe, before that Silver Veil, 

Believes the form, to which he bends his knee, 

Some pure, redeeming angel, sent to free 

This fetter'd world from every bond and stain, 

And bring its primal glories back again ! 

Low as young AZIM knelt, that motley crowd 
Of all earth's nations sunk the knee and bow'd, 
With shouts of " ALLA ! " echoing long and loud ; 
While high in air, above the Prophet's head, 
Hundreds of banners, to the sunbeam spread, 


Wav'd, like the wings of the white birds that fan 

The flying throne of star-taught SOLIMAN.* 

Then thus he spoke : " Stranger, though new the 


Thy soul inhabits now, I've track'd its flame 
For many an age, 41 in every chance and change 
Of that existence, through whose varied range, 
As through a torch-race, where, from hand to hand, 
The flying youths transmit their shining brand, 
From frame to frame the unextinguish'd soul 
Rapidly passes, till it reach the goal ! 

" Nor think 'tis only the gross Spirits, warm'd 
With duskier tire and for earth's medium form'd, 
That run this course; Beings, the most divine, 
Thus deign through dark mortality to shine. 
Such was the Essence that in ADAM dwelt, 
To which all Heaven, except the Proud One, knelt : 42 
Such the refin'd Intelligence that glow'd 
In MOUSSA'S*' frame, and, thence descending, flow'd 
Through many a Prophet's breast ; 44 in ISSA 46 shone, 
And in MOHAMMED burn'd; till, hastening on, 
(As a bright river that, from fall to fall 
In many a maze descending, bright through all, 
Finds some fair region where, each labyrinth past, 
In one full lake of light it rests at last !) 
That Holy Spirit, settling calm and free 
From lapse or shadow, centres all in me ! " 

Again, throughout the assembly, at these words. 
Thousands of voices rung : the warriors' swords 
Were ]>ointed up to heaven ; a sudden wind 
In the open banners play'd, and from behind 
Those Persian hangings, that but ill could screen 
The Haram's loveliness, white hands were seen 


Waving embroider'd scarves, whose motion gave 
A perfume forth ; like those the Houris wave 
When beck'ning to their bowers the immortal Brave. 

" But these," pursued the Chief, " are truths sublime, 
That claim a holier mood and calmer time 
Than earth allows us now ; this sword must first 
The darkling prison-house of Mankind burst 
Ere Peace can visit them, or Truth let in 
Her wakening daylight on a world of sin. 
But then, celestial warriors, then, when all 
Earth's shrines and thrones before our banner fall ; 
When the glad Slave shall at these feet lay down 
His broken chain, the tyrant Lord his crown, 
The Priest kis book, the Conqueror his wreath, 
And from the lips of Truth one mighty breath 
Shall, like a whirlwind, scatter in its breeze 
That whole dark pile of human mockeries ; 
Then shall the reign of mind commence on earth, 
And starting fresh, as from a second birth, 
Man, in the sunshine of the world's new spring, 
Shall walk. transparent, like some holy thing! 
Then, too, your Prophet from his angel brow 
Shall cast the Veil that hides its splendors now, 
And gladden'd Earth shall, through her wide expanse. 
Bask in the glories of this coiintenance ! 
For thee, young warrior, welcome ! thou hast yet 
Some tasks to learn, some frailties to forget, 
Ere the white war-plume o'er thy brow can wave ; 
But, once my own, mine all till in the grave ! " 

The pomp is at an end the crowds are gone 
Each ear and heart still haunted by the tone 
Of that deep voice, which thrill'd like ALLA'S own ! 
The Young all dazzled by the plumes and lances, 


The glittering throne, and Harara's half-caught glances ; 
The Old deep pondering on the promis'd reign 
Of peace and truth ; and all the female train 
Keady to risk their eyes, could they but gaze 
A moment on that brow's miraculous blaze ! 

But there was one, among the chosen maids, 
Who blush'd behind the gallery's silken shades, 
One, to whose soul the pageant of to-day 
Has been like death : you saw her pale dismay, 
Ye wondering sisterhood, and heard the burst 
Of exclamation from her lips, when first 
She saw that youth, too well, too dearly known, 
Silently kneeling at the Prophet's throne. 

Ah ZELICA ! there was a time, when bliss 
Shone o'er thy heart from every look of his ; 
When but to see him, hear him, breathe the air 
In which he dwelt, was thy soul's fondest prayer; 
When round him hung such a perpetual spell, 
Whate'er he did none ever did so well. 
Too happy days ! when, if he touch' d a flower 
Or gem of thine, 'twas sacred from that hour ; 
When thou didst study him till every tone 
And gesture and dear look became thy own, 
Thy voice like his, the changes of his face 
In thine reflected with still lovelier grace: 
Like echo, sending back sweet music, fraught 
With twice the aerial sweetness it had brought ! 
Yet now he comes, brighter than even he 
E'er IwamM before, but, ah ! not bright for thee; 
No dread, unlook'd for, like a visitant 
From the other world, he comes as if to haunt 
Thy guilty soul with dreams of lost delight, 
Long lost to all but memory's aching sight: 


Sad dreams ! as when the Spirit of our Youth 
Returns in sleep, sparkling with all the truth 
And innocence once ours, and leads us back, 
In mournful mockery, o'er the shining track 
Of our young life, and points out every ray 
Of hope and peace we've lost upon the way ! 

Once happy pair ; in proud BOKHARA'S groves, 
Who had not heard of their first youthful loves ? 
Born by that ancient flood, 46 which from its spring 
In the dark Mountains swiftly wandering, 
Enrich'd by every pilgrim brook that shines 
With relics from BUCIIARIA'S ruby mines, 
And lending to the CASPIAN half its strength, 
In the cold Lake of Eagles sinks at length ; 
There, on the banks of that bright river born, 
The flowers, that hung above its wave at morn, 
Bless'd not the waters, as they murmur'd by, 
With holier scent and lustre, than the sigh 
And virgin-glance of first affection cast 
Upon their youth's smooth current, as it pass'd ! 
But war disturb'd this vision, far away 
From her fond eyes summon'd to join the array 
Of PERSIA'S warriors on the hills of THRACE, 
The youth exchang'd his sylvan dwelling-place 
For the rude tent and war-field's deathful clash ; 
His ZELICA'S sweet glances for the flash 
Of Grecian wild-fire, and Love's gentle chains 
For bleeding bondage on BYZANTIUM'S plains. 

Month after month, in widowhood of soul 
Drooping, the maiden saw two summers roll 
Their suns away but ah ! how cold and dim 
Even summer suns, when not beheld with him ! 
From time to time ill-oinen'd rumors came, 


Like spirit-tongues mutt'ring the sick man's name, 
Just ere he dies : at length those sounds of dread 
Fell withering on her soul, " AZIM is dead ! " 
Oh Grief, beyond all other griefs, when fate 
First leaves the young heart lone and desolate 
In the wide world, without that only tie 
For which it lov'd to live or fear'd to die ; 
Lorn as the hung-up lute, that ne'er hath spoken 
Since the sad day its master-chord was broken ! 
Fond maid, the sorrow of her soul was such, 
Even reason sunk, blighted beneath its touch: 
And though, ere long, her sanguine spirit rose 
Above the first dead pressure of its woes, 
Though health and bloom return'd, the delicate chain 
Of thought, once tangled, never clear'd again. 
Warm, lively, soft as in youth's happiest day, 
The mind was still all there, but turn'd astray ; 
A wand'ring bark, upon whose pathway shone 
All stars of heaven, except the guiding one ! 
Again she smil'd, nay, much and brightly smil'd, 
But 'twas a lustre, strange, unreal, wild; 
And when she sung to her lute's touching strain, 
Twas like the notes, half ecstasy, half pain, 
The bulbul 47 utters, ere her soul depart, 
When, vanquished by some minstrel's powerful art, 
She dies upon the lute whose sweetness broke her 
heart ! 

Such was the mood in which that mission found 
Young ZKUCA, that mission, which around 
The Eastern world, in every region blest 
With woman's smile, sought out its loveliest, 
To grace that galaxy of lips and eyes 
Which the Veil'd Prophet destin'd for the skies : 
And such quick welcome as a spark receives 


Dropp'd on a bed of Autumn's wither'd leaves, 

Did every tale of these enthusiasts find 

In the Avild maiden's sorrow-blighted mind. 

All fire at once the madd'ning zeal she caught ; 

Elect of Paradise ! blest, rapturous thought ! 

Predestin'd bride, in heaven's eternal dome, 

Of some brave youth ha ! durst they say " of some ? " 

No of the one, one only object trac'd 

In her heart's core too deep to be effac'd ; 

The one whose memory, fresh as life, is twin'd 

With every broken link of her lost mind ; 

Whose image lives, though Keason's self be wreck'd, 

Safe 'mid the ruins of her intellect ! 

Alas, poor ZELICA ! it needed all 
The fantasy which held thy mind in thrall, 
To see in that gay Haram's glowing maids 
A sainted colony for Eden's shades ; 
Or dream that he, of whose unholy flame 
Thou wert too soon the victim, shining came 
From Paradise, to people its pure sphere 
With souls like thine, which he hath ruin'd here ! 
No had not Reason's light totally set, 
And left thee dark, thou hadst an amulet 
In the lov'd image, graven on thy heart, 
Which would have sav'd thee from the tempter's 


And kept alive, in all its bloom of breath, 
That purity, whose fading is love's death ! 
But lost, inflamed, a restless zeal took place 
Of the mild virgin's still and feminine grace ; 
First of the Prophet's favorites, proudly first 
In zeal and charms, too well the Impostor nurs'd 
Her soul's delirium, in whose active flame, 
Thus lighting up a young, luxuriant frame, 


He saw more potent sorceries to bind 

To his dark yoke the spirits of mankind, 

More subtle chains than hell itself e'er twin'd. 

No art was spar'd, no witchery ; all the skill 

His demons taught him was employ'd to fill 

Her mind with gloom and ecstasy by turns 

That gloom, through which Frenzy but fiercer burns ; 

That ecstasy, which from the depth of sadness 

Glares like the maniac's moon, whose light is madness. 

'Twas from a brilliant banquet, where the sound 
Of poesy and music breath'd around, 
Together picturing to her mind and ear 
The glories of that heaven, her destin'd sphere, 
Where all was pure, where every stain that lay 
Upon the spirit's light should pass away, 
And, realizing more than youthful love 
E'er wish'd or dream'd, she should forever rove 
Through fields of fragrance by her AZIM'S side, 
His own bless'd, purified, eternal bride ! 
'Twas from a scene, a witching trance like this, 
He hurried her away, yet breathing bliss, 
To the dim charnel-house ; through all its steams 
Of damp and death, led only by those gleams 
Which foul Corruption lights, as with design 
To show the gay and proud, she too can shine ! 
And, passing on through upright ranks of Dead, 
Which to the maiden, doubly craz'd by dread, 
Seem'd, through the bluish death-light round them 


To move their lips in mutterings as she pass'd 
There, in that awful place, when each had quaffd 
And pledg'd in silence such a fearful draught, 
Such oil! the look and taste of that red tx>wl 
Will haunt her till she dies he bound her soul 


By a dark oath, in hell's own language fram'd, 
Never, while earth his mystic presence claim' d, 
While the blue arch of day hung o'er them both, 
Never, by that all-imprecating oath, 
In joy or sorrow from his side to sever. 

She swore, and the wide charnel echoed, "Never, 
never ! 

From that dread hour, entirely, wildly given 
To him and she belie v'd, lost maid! to Heaven, 
Her brain, her heart, her passions all inflam'd, 
How proud she stood, when in full Haram nam'd 
The Priestess of the Faith ! how flash'd her eyes 
With light, alas ! that was not of the skies, 
When round, in trances, only less than hers, 
She saw the Haram kneel, her prostrate worshippers ! 
Well might MOKANNA think that form alone 
Had spells enough to make the world his own : 
Light, lovely limbs, to which the spirit's play 
Gave motion, airy as the dancing spray, 
WTien from its stem the small bird wings away : 
Lips in whose rosy labyrinth, when she smil'd, 
The soul was lost ; and blushes, swift and wild 
As are the momentary meteors sent 
Across the uncalm, but beauteous firmament. 
And then her look oh ! where's the heart so wise 
Could unbewilder'd meet those matchless eyes ? 
Quick, restless, strange, but exquisite withal, 
Like those of angels, just before their fall; 
Now shadow'd with the shames of earth now crost 
By glimpses of the heaven her heart had lost ; 
In ev'ry glance there broke, without control, 
The flashes of a bright but troubled soul, 
Where sensibility still wildly play'd, 
Like lightning, round the ruins it had made 1 


And such was now young ZELICA so chang'd 
From her who, some years since, delighted rang'd 
The almond groves that shade BOKHARA'S tide, 
All life and bliss, with AZIM by her side ! 
So alter'd was she now, this festal day, 
When, 'mid the proud Divan's dazzling array, 
The vision of that Youth whom she had lov'd, 
Had wept as dead, before her breath'd and mov'd ; 
When bright, she thought, as if from Eden's track 
But half-way trodden, he had wander'd back 
Again to earth, glistening with Eden's light 
Her beauteous AZIM shone before her sight. 

Reason ! who shall say what spells renew, 
When least we look for it, thy broken clew ! 
Through what small vistas o'er the darken'd brain 
Thy intellectual day -beam bursts again ; 
And how, like forts, to which beleaguerers win 
Unhop'd-for entrance through some friend within, 
One clear idea, waken'd in the breast 
By memory's magic, lets in all the rest ! 
Would it were thus, unhappy girl, with thee ! 
But though light came, it came but partially ; 
Enough to show the maze in which thy sense 
Wander 1 d about, bxit not to guide it thence; 
Enough to glimmer o'er the yawning wave, 
But not GO point the harbor winch might save. 
Hours of delight and peace, long left behind, 
With that dear form came rushing oVr her mind; 
But, oh ! to think how deep her soul had gone 
In shame and falsehood since those moments shone; 
And, then, her oath th-re madness lay again, 
And, shuddering, back she sunk into her chain 
Of mental darkness, as if blest to flee 
From light, whose every glimpse was agony ! 


Yet, one relief this glance of former years 

Brought, mingled with its pain, tears, floods of 


Long frozen at her heart, but now like rills 
Let loose in spring-time from the snowy hills, 
And gushing warm, after a sleep of frost, 
Through valleys where their flow had long been lost. 

Sad and subdued, for the first time her frame 
Trembled with horror, when the summons came 
(A summons proud and rare, which all but she, 
And she till now, had heard with ecstasy) 
To meet MOKANNA at his place of prayer, 
A garden oratory, cool and fair, 
By the stream's side, where still at close of day 
The Prophet of the Veil retir'd to pray ; 
Sometimes alone but, oftener far, with one, 
One chosen nymph to share his orison. 

Of late none found such favor in his sight 
As the young Priestess ; and though, since that night 
When the death-caverns echoed every tone 
Of the dire oath that made her all his own, 
The Impostor, sure of his infatuate prize, 
Had, more than once, thrown off his soul's disguise, 
And utter'd such unheavenly, monstrous things, 
As even across the desp'rate wanderings 
Of a weak intellect, whose lamp was out, 
Threw startling shadows of dismay and doubt ; 
Yet zeal, ambition, her tremendous vow, 
The thought, still haunting her, of that bright brow, 
Whose blaze, as yet from mortal eye conceal'd, 
Would soon, proud triumph ! be to her reveal'd, 
To her alone ; and then the hope, most dear, 
Most wild of all, that her transgression here 


Was tut a passage through earth's grosser fire, 

Froiu which the spirit would at last aspire, 

Even purer than before, as perfumes rise 

Through flame and smoke, most welcome to the skies - 

And that when AZIM'S fond, divine embrace 

Should circle her in heaven, no dark'ning trace 

Would on that bosom he once lov'd remain, 

But all be bright, be pure, be his again ! 

These were the wildering dreams, whose curst deceit 

Had chain'd her soul beneath the tempter's feet, 

And made her think even damning falsehood sweet. 

But now that Shape, which had appall'd her view, 

Th?t Semblance oh, how terrible, if true ! 

Which came across her frenzy's full career 

With shock of consciousness, cold, deep, severe, 

As when, in northern seas, at midnight dark, 

An isle of ice encounters some swift bark, 

And, startling all its wretches from their sleep, 

By one cold impulse hurls them to the deep ; 

So came that shock not frenzy's self could bear, 

And waking up each long-lull'd image there, 

But check'd her headlong soul, to sink it in despair I 

Wan and dejected, through the evening dusk, 
She now went slowly to that small kiosk, 
Where, pondering alone his impious schemes, 
MOKAXNA waited her too rapt in dreams 
Of the fair-rip'ning future's rich success, 
To heed the sorrow, pale and spiritless, 
That sat upon his victim's downcast brow, 
Or mark how slow her step, how alterM now 
From the quick, ardent Priestess, whose light 
Came like a spirit's o'er the unerhoing ground, 
From that wild ZKI.ICA, whose every glance 
Was thrilling tire, whose every thought a trance I 


Upon his couch the Veil'd MOKANNA lay, 
While lamps around not such as lend their ray, 
Glimmering and cold, to those who nightly pray 
In holy KooM, 48 or MECCA'S dim arcades, 
But brilliant, soit, such lights as lovely maids 
Look loveliest in, shed their luxurious glow 
Upon his mystic Veil's white glittering flow. 
Beside him, 'stead of beads and books of prayer, 
Which the world fondly thought he mus'd on there, 
Stood vases, fill'd with KISHMEE'S 49 golden wine, 
And the red weepings of the SHIRAZ vine ; 
Of which his curtain'd lips full many a draught 
Took zealously, as if each drop they quaff'd, 
Like ZEMZEM'S Spring of Holiness, 50 had power 
To freshen the soul's virtues into flower ! 
And still he drank and ponder'd nor could see 
The approaching maid, so deep his reverie ; 
At length, with fiendish laugh, like that which broke 
"From EBLIS at the Fall of Man, he spoke : 
" Yes, ye vile race, for hell's amusement given, 
Too mean for earth, yet claiming kin with heaven ; 
God's images, forsooth ! such Gods as he 
Whom INDIA serves, the monkey deity ; 51 
Ye creatures of a breath, proud things of clay, 
To whom if LUCIFER, as grandams say, 
Refus'd, though at the forfeit of heaven's light, 
To bend in worship, LUCIFER was right ! 52 
Soon shall I plant this foot upon the neck 
Of your foul race, and without fear or check, 
Luxuriating in hate, avenge my shame, 
My deep-felt, long-nurst loathing of man's name ; 
Soon at the head of myriads, blind and fierce 
As hooded falcons, through the universe 
I'll sweep my dark'ning, desolating way, 
Weak man my instrument, curst man my prey f 


" Ye wise, ye learn'd, who grope your dull way on 
By the dim twinkling gleams of ages gone, 
Like superstitious thieves, who think the light 
From dead men's marrow guides them best at night 68 
Ye shall have honors wealth, yes, Sages, yes 
I know, grave fools, your wisdom's nothingness ; 
Undazzled it can track yon starry sphere, 
But a gilt stick, a bauble blinds it here. 
How I shall laugh, when trumpeted along, 
In lying speech, and still more lying song, 
By these learn'd slaves, the meanest of the throng ; 
Their wits bought up, their wisdom shrunk so small, 
A sceptre's puny point can wield it all ! 

" Ye too, believers of incredible creeds, 
Whose faith enshrines the monsters which it breeds ; 
Who, bolder even than NEMROD, think to rise, 
By nonsense heap'd on nonsense, to the skies ; 
Ye shall have miracles, ay, sound ones too, 
Seen, heard, attested, ev'ry thing but true. 
Your preaching zealots, too inspir'd to seek 
One grace of meaning for the things they speak 
Your martyrs, ready to shed out their blood 
For truths too heavenly to be understood ; 
And your State Priests, sole vendors of the lore 
That works salvation; as, on AVA'S shore, 
Where none but priests are privileg'd to trade 
In that best marble of which (Jods are made; 84 
They shall have mysteries ay, precious stuff 
For knaves to thrive by mysteries enough ; 
Dark, tangled doctrines, dark as fraud can weave, 
Which simple votaries shall on trust receive, 
While craftier feign belief, till they believe. 
A Heaven too ye must have, ye lords of dust, 
A splendid Paradise, pure souls, ye must : 


That Prophet ill sustains his holy call, 

Who finds not heavens to suit the tastes of all 5 

Houris for boys, omniscience for sages, 

And wings and glories for all ranks and ages. 

Vain things ! as lust or vanity inspires, 

The Heaven of each is but what each desires, 

And, soul or sense, whate'er the object be, 

Man would be man to all eternity ! 

So let him EBLIS ! grant this crowning curse, 

But keep him what he is, no Hell were worse." 

" Oh my lost soul ! " exclaim'd the shuddering maid, 
Whose ears had drunk like poison all he said : 
MOK ANN A started not abash'd, afraid, 
He knew no more of fear than one who dwells 
Beneath the tropics knows of icicles ! 
But, in those dismal words that reach'd his ear, 
" Oh my lost soul ! " there was a sound so drear, 
So like that voice, among the sinful dead, 
In which the legend o'er Hell's Gate is read, 
That, new as 'twas from her, whom nought could dim 
Or sink till now, it startled even him. 

" Ha, my fair Priestess ! " thus, with ready wile, 
The impostor turn'd to greet her " thou, whose sniila 
Hath inspiration in its rosy beam 
Beyond the Enthusiast's hope or Prophet's dream ! 
Light of the faith ! who twin'st religion's zeal 
So close with love's, men know not which they feel, 
Nor which to sigh for, in their trance of heart, 
The heaven thou preachest or the heaven thou art ! 
What should I be without thee ? without thee 
How dull were power, how joyless victory ! 
Though borne by angels, if that smile of thine 
Bless'd not my banner, 'twere but half divine. 


But why so mournful, child ? those eyes, that shone 

All life last night what ! is their glory gone ? 

Come, come this morn's fatigue hath made them pale, 

They want rekindling suns themselves would fail, 

Did not their comets bring, as I to thee, 

From light's own fount supplies of brilliancy. 

Thou see'st this cup no juice of earth is here, 

But the pure waters of that upper sphere, 

Whose rills o'er ruby beds ami topaz flow, 

Catching the gem's bright color as they go. 

Nightly my Genii come and fill these urns 

Nay, drink in every drop life's essence burns ; 

'Twill make that soul all fire, those eyes all light 

Come, come, I want thy loveliest smiles to-night : 

There is a youth why start ? thou saw'st him then ; 

Look'd he not nobly ? such the godlike men 

Thou'lt have to woo thee in the bowers above ; 

Though he, I fear, hath thoughts too stern for love, 

Too rul'd by that cold enemy of bliss 

The world calls virtue we must conquer this ; 

Nay, shrink not, pretty sage ! 'tis not for thee 

To scan the mazes of Heaven's mystery : 

The steel must pass through fire, ere it can yield 

Fit instruments for mighty hands to wield 

This very night I mean to try the art 

Of powerful beauty on that warrior's heart. 

All that my Haram boasts of bloom and wit, 

Of skill and charms, most rai and exquisite, 

Shall tempt the boy; young MIKZALA'S blue eyes, 

Whose sleepy lid like snow on violets lies ; 

AROUYA'S cheeks, warm as a spring-day sun, 

And lips that, like the seal of SOLOMON', 

Have magic in their pressure ; ZKHA'M lute. 

And LILLA'S dancing feet, that gleam and shoot 

Rapid and white as sea-birds o'er the deep 


All shall combine their witching powers to steep 
My convert's spirit in that soft'ning trance, 
From which to heaven is but the next advance ; 
That glowing, yielding fusion of the breast, 
On which Religion stamps her image best. 
But hear me, Priestess ! though each nymph of these 
Hath some peculiar, practis'd power to please, 
Some glance or step which, at the mirror tried, 
First charms herself, then all the world beside ; 
There still wants one, to make the victory sure, 
One who in every look joins every lure ; 
Through whom all beauty's beams concentred pass, 
Dazzling and warm, as through love's burning glass ; 
Whose gentle lips persuade without a word, 
"Whose words, ev'n when unmeaning, are ador'd, 
Like inarticulate breathings from a shrine, 
Which our faith takes for granted are divine ! 
Such is the nymph we w r ant, all warmth and light, 
To crown the rich temptations of to-night : 
Such the refin'd enchantress that must be 
This hero's vanquisher, and thou art she ! " 

With her hands clasp'd, her lips apart and pale, 
The maid had stood, gazing upon the Veil 
From which these words, like south winds through a 


Of Kerzrah flowers, came fill'd with pestilence ; 65 
So boldly utter'd too ! as if all dread 
Of frowns from her, of virtuous frowns, were fled, 
And the wretch felt assur'd that, once plung'd in, 
Her woman's soul would know no pause in sin ! 

At first, though mute she listen'd, like a dream 
Seem'd all he said : nor could her mind, whose beam 
As yet was weak, penetrate half his scheme. 


But when, at length, he utter'a, ' Thou art she ! " 

All flash'd at once, and shrieking piteously, 

" Oh not for worlds ! " she cried " Great God ! to whom 

I once knelt innocent, is this my doom ? 

Are all my dreams, my hopes of heavenly bliss, 

My purity, my pride, then come to this, 

To live, the wanton of a fiend ! to be 

The parider of his guilt oh infamy ! 

And sunk, myself, as low as hell can steep 

In its hot flood, drag others down as deep ! 

Others ha ! yes that youth who came to-day 

Not him I lov'd not him oh ! do but say, 

But swear to me this moment 'tis not he, 

And I will serve, dark fiend, will worship even thee ! " 

" Beware, young raving thing ! in time beware, 
Xor utter what I cannot, must not bear, 
Even from thy lips. Go try thy lute, thy voice, 
The boy must feel their magic; I rejoice 
To see those fires, no matter whence they rise, 
Once more illuming my fair Priestess' eyes ; 
And should the youth, whom soon those eyes shall warm, 
Indeed resemble thy dead lover's form, 
So much the happier wilt thou find thy doom, 
As one warm lover, full of life and bloom, 
Excels ten thousand cold ones in the tomb. 
Nay, nay, no frowning, sweet ! those eyes were made 
For love, not an;,er I must be obey'd." 

"Obey'd! 'tis well yes, I deserve it all 
On me, on me Heaven's vengeance cannot fall 
Too heavily but A/.IM, brave and true 
And beautiful must fie l>e ruin'd too? 
Must he too, glorious as he is, bo driven 
A renegade like me from Love and Heaven? 


Like me ? weak wretch, I wrong Mm not like me ; 
No he's all truth and strength and purity ! 
Fill up your madcl'ning hell-cup to the brim, 
Its witch'ry, fiends, will have no charm for him. 
Let loose your glowing wantons from their bowers, 
He loves, he loves, and can defy their powers ! 
"Wretch as I am, in his heart still I reign 
Pure as when first we met, without a stain ! 
Though ruin'd lost my memory, like a charm 
Left by the dead, still keeps his soul from harm. 
Oh ! never let him know how deep the brow 
He kiss'd at parting is dishonor'd now ; 
Ne'er tell him how debas'd, how sunk is she, 
Whom once he lov'd once ! still loves dotingly. 
Thou laugh' st, tormentor, what ! thou'lt brand my 


Do, do in vain he'll not believe my shame 
He thinks me true ; that nought beneath God's sky 
Could tempt or change me, and so once thought I. 
But this is past though worse than death my lot, 
Than hell 'tis nothing while he knows it not. 
Far off to some benighted land I'll fly, 
Where sunbeam ne'er shall enter till I die ; 
Where none will ask the lost one whence she came, 
But I may fade and fall without a name. 
And thou curst man or fiend, whate'er thou art, 
Who found'st this burning plague-spot in my heart, 
And spread'st it oh, so quick ! through soul and 


With more than demon's art, till I became 
A loathsome thing, all pestilence, all flame ! 
If when I'm gone " 

" Hold, fearless maniac, hold. 
Nor tempt my rage by Heaven, not half so bold 


The puny bird, that dares with teasing hum 

Within the crocodile's stfetch'd jaws to come ! M 

And so thou'lt fly, forsooth ? what ! give up all 

Thy chaste dominion in the Haram Hall, 

Where now to Love and now to ALLA given, 

Half mistress and half saint, thou hang'st as even 

As doth MEDINA'S tomb, 'twixt hell and heaven! 

Thou'lt fly ! as easily may reptiles run, 

The gaunt snake once hath fix'd his eyes upon ; 

As easily, when caught, the prey may be 

Pluck'd from his loving folds, as thou from me. 

No, no, 'tis fix'd let good or ill betide, 

Thou'rt mine till death, till death MOKANNA'S bride ! 

Hast thou forgot thy oath ? " 

At this dread word, 

The Maid, whose spirit his rude taunts had stirr'd 
Through all its depth, and rous'd an anger there, 
That burst and lighten'd ev'n through her despair 
Shrunk back, as if a blight were in the breath 
That spoke that word, and stagger'd, pale as death. 

" Yes, my sworn bride, let others seek in bowers 
Their bridal place the charnel vault was ours ! 
Instead of scents and balms, for thee and me 
Rose the rich steams of sweet mortality ; 
Gay, flickering death-lights shone while we were wed, 
And, for our guests, a row of goodly Dead, 
flmmortal spirits in their time, no doubt,) 
From reeking .shrouds upon the rite look'd out! 
That oath .thou heard'st more lips than thine repeat 
That cup thou shudd'rest, Lady, was it sweet? 
That cup we pledg'd, the churnel's choicest wine, 
Hath bound thee ay, body and soul all mine ; 
Hound thee by chains that, whether blest or curst 


No matter now, not hell itself shall burst ! 

Hence, woman, to the Haram, and look gay, 

Look wild, look anything but sad; yet stay 

One moment more from what this night hath pass'd, 

I see thou know'st me, know'st me well at last. 

Ha ! ha ! and so, fond thing, thou thought'st all true, 

And that I love mankind ? I do, I do 

As victims, love them ; as the sea-dog doats 

Upon the small, sweet fry that round him floats ; 

Or, as the Nile-bird loves the slime that gives 

That rank and venomous food on which she lives ! 5T 

"And, now thou see'st my soul's angelic hue, 
'Tis time these features were uncurtain'd too ; 
This brow, whose light oh rare celestial light ! 
Hath been reserv'd to bless thy favor'd sight ; 
These dazzling eyes, before whose shrouded might 
Thou'st seen immortal Man kneel down and quake 
Would that they were heaven's lightnings for his sake ! 
But turn and look then wonder, if thou wilt, 
That I should hate, should take revenge, by guilt, 
Upon the hand, whose mischief or whose mirth 
Sent me thus maim'd and monstrous upon earth ; 
And on that race who, though more vile they be 
Than mowing apes, are demi-gods to me ! 
Here judge if hell, with all its power to damn, 
Can add one curse to the foul thing I am ! " 

He rais'd his veil the Maid turn'd slowly round, 
Look'd at him shriek'd and sunk upon the ground! 


Ox their arrival, next night, at the place of encampment, 
they were surprised and delighted to find the groves all 
around illuminated ; some artists of Yamtcheou 68 having 
been sent on previously for the purpose. On each side 
of the green alley, which led to the Royal Pavilion, 
artificial sceneries of bamboo- work 69 were erected, repre- 
senting arches, minarets, and towers, from which hung 
thousands of silken lanterns, painted by the most deli- 
cate pencils of Canton. Nothing could be more beautiful 
than the leaves of the mango-trees and acacias, shining 
in the light of the bamboo-scenery, which shed a lustre 
round as soft as that of the nights of Peristan. 

LALLA ROOKH, however, who was too much occupied 
by the sad story of ZELICA and her lover, to give a 
thought to anything else, except, perhaps, him who 
related it, hurried on through this scene of splendor to 
her pavilion, greatly to the mortification of the poor 
artists of Yamtcheou, and was followed with equal 
rapidity by the Great Chamberlain, cursing, as he went, 
that ancient Mandarin, whose parental anxiety in light- 
ing up the shores of the lake, where his beloved daughter 
had wandered and been lost, was the origin of these 
fantastic Chinese illuminations. 90 

Without a moment's delay, young FKKAMOKZ was intro- 
duced, and FADLADKKX, who could never mak* ~p his 
mind as to the merits of a poet, till he knew the religious 
sect to whieh he lelonged, was about to ask him whether 
he was a Shia or a Sooni, when LALLA KOOKH impa- 
tiently clapped her hands for silence, and the youth, 
being sejited u|xm the musnnd near her, proceeded : 


PREPARE thy soul, young AZIM ! thou hast brav'd 

The bands of GREECE, still mighty though enslav'd ; 

Hast faced her phalanx, arm'd with all its fame, 

Her Macedonian pikes and globes of flame ; 

All this hast fronted, with firm heart and brow, 

But a more perilous trial waits thee now, 

Woman's bright eyes, a dazzling host of eyes 

From every land where woman smiles or sighs ; 

Of every hue, as Love may chance to raise 

His black or azure banner in their blaze ; 

And each sweet mode of warfare, from the flash 

That lightens boldly through the shadowy lash, 

To the sly, stealing splendors, almost hid, 

"Like swords half-sheath'd, beneath the downcast lid : - 

Such, AZIM, is the lovely, luminous host 

Now led against thee ; and, let conquerors boast 

Their fields of fame, he who in virtue arms 

A young, warm spirit against beauty's charms, 

Who feels her brightness, yet defies her thrall, 

Is the best, bravest conqueror of them all. 

Now, through the Haram chambers, moving lights 
And busy shapes proclaim the toilet's rites ; 
From room to room the ready handmaids hie, 
Some skill'd to wreathe the turban tastefully, 
Or hang the veil, in negligence of shade, 
O'er the warm blushes of the youthful maid, 
Who, if between the folds but one eye shone, 
Like SEBA'S Queen could vanquish with that one: 61 - 
While some bring leaves of Henna, to imbue 
The fingers' ends with a bright roseate hue, 62 
So bright, that in the mirror's depth they seem. 


Like tips of coral branches in the stream ; 

And others mix the Kohol's jetty dye, 

To give that long, dark languish to the eye, 68 

Which makes the maids, whom kings are proud to cull 

From fair Circassia's vales, so beautiful. 

All is in motion ; rings and plumes and pearls 

Are shining everywhere : some younger girls 

Are gone by moonlight to the garden beds, 

To gather fresh, cool chaplets for their heads ; 

Gay creatures ! sweet, though mournful, 'tis to see 

How each prefers a garland from that tree 

Which brings to mind her childhood's innocent day, 

And the dear fields and friendships far away. 

The maid of IXDIA, blest again to hold 

In her full lap the Champac's leaves of gold, 64 

Thinks of the time when, by the GANGES' flood, 

Her little playmates scatter'd many a bud 

Upon her long black hair, with glossy gleam 

Just dripping from the consecrated stream ; 

While the young Arab, haunted by the smell 

Of her own mountain flowers, as by a spell, 

The sweet Elcaya, 6 * and that courteous tree 

Which bows to all who seek its canopy, 68 

Sees, call'd up round her by these magic scents, 

The well, the camels, and her father's tents ; 

Sighs for the home she left with little pain, 

And wishes even its sorrows back again ! 

Meanwhile, through vast illuminated halls, 
Silent and bright, where nothing Imt the falls 
Ot fragrant waters, gushing with cool sound 
From many a jasper fount, is heard around, 
Young AZIM roams bewilder'd, nor can guess 
What means this ma/e of light and loneliness. 
Here, the way leads, o'er tesselated floors 


Or mats of CAIRO, through long corridors, 
Where, ranged in cassolets and silver urns, 
Sweet wood of aloe or of saiidaJ burns ; 
And spicy rods, such as illume at night 
The bowers of TIBET, 6T send forth odorous light, 
Like Peris' wands, when pointing out the road 
For some pure Spirit to its blest abode : 
And here, at once, the glittering saloon 
Bursts on his sight, boundless and bright as noon; 
"Where, in the midst, reflecting back the rays 
In broken rainbows, 'a fresh fountain plays 
High as the enamell'd cupola, which towers 
All rich with Arabesques of gold and flowers : 
And the mosaic floor beneath shines through 
The sprinkling of that fountain's silv'ry dew, 
Like the wet, glistening shells, of every dye, 
That on the margin of the Red Sea lie. 

Here too he traces the kind visitings 
Of woman's love in those fair, living things 
Of land and wave, whose fate in bondage thrown 
For their weak loveliness is like her own ! 
On one side gleaming with a sudden grace 
Through water, brilliant as the crystal vase 
In which it undulates, small fishes shine, 
Like golden ingots from a fairy mine ; 
While, on the other, latticed lightly in 
With odoriferous woods of CoMORix, 68 
Each brilliant bird that wings the air is seen; 
Gay, sparkling loories, such as gleam between 
The crimson blossoms of the coral tree 69 
In the warm Isles of India's sunny sea : 
Mecca's blue sacred pigeon, 70 and the thrush 
Of Hindostan, 71 whose holy warblings gush, 
At evening, from the tall pagoda's top ; 


Those golden birds that, in the spice-time, drop 
About the gardens, drunk with that sweet food 73 
Whose scent hath lur'd them o'er the summer flood ; 7 * 
And those that under Araby's soft sun 
Build their high nests of budding cinnamon : "* 
In short, all rare and beauteous things, that fly 
Through the pure element, here calmly lie 
Sleeping in light, like the green birds 76 that dweli 
In Eden's radiant fields of asphodel ! 

So on, through scenes past all imagining, 
More like the luxuries of that impious King, 78 
Whom Death's dark angel, with his lightning torch, 
Struck down and blasted even in Pleasure's porch, 
Than the pure dwelling of a Prophet sent, 
Arm'd with Heaven's sword, for man's enfranchise- 

Young AZIM wander'd, looking sternly round, 
His simple garb and war-boots' clanking sound 
But ill according with the pomp and grace 
And silent lull of that voluptuous place. 

"Is this, then." thought the youth, "is this the way 
To free man's spirit from the dead'ning sway 
Of worldly sloth, to teach him, while he lives, 
To know no bliss but that which virtue gives, 
And, when he dies, to leave his lofty name 
A light, a landmark on the cliffs of fame ? 
It was not so, Land of the generous thought 
And daring deed, thy godlike sages taught; 
It was imt thus, in Iwiwers of wanton ease, 
Thy Freedom nurs'd her sacred energies ; 
Oh! not IxMieath the enfeebling, withering glow 
Of such dull luxury did those myrtles grow, 


With which she wreath'd her sword, when she would 


Immortal deeds ; but in the bracing air t 
Of toil, of temperance, of that high, rare, 
Ethereal virtue, which alone can breathe 
Life, health, and lustre into Freedom's wreath. 
Who, that surveys this span of earth we press, 
This speck of life in time's great wilderness, 
This narrow isthmus 'twixt two boundless seas, 
The past, the future, two eternities ! 
Would sully the bright spot, or leave it bare, 
When he might build him a proud temple there, 
A name, that long shall hallow all its space, 
And be each purer soul's high resting-place ? 
But no it cannot be, that one, whom God 
Hath sent to break the wizard Falsehood's rod, 
A Prophet of the Truth, whose mission draws 
Its rights from Heaven, should thus profane its cause 
With the world's vulgar pomp ; no, no, I see 
He thinks me weak this glare of luxury 
Is but to tempt, to try the eaglet gaze 
Of my young soul shine on, 'twill stand the blaze ! " 

So thought the j^outh ; but, ev'n while he defied 
This witching scene, he felt its witchery glide 
Through ev'ry sense. The perfume breathing round, 
Like a pervading spirit ; the still sound 
Of falling waters, lulling as the song 
Of Indian bees at sunset, when they throng 
Around the fragrant NILICA, and deep 
In its blue blossoms hum themselves to sleep ; 77 
And music, too dear music ! that can touch 
Beyond all else the soul that loves it much 
Now heard far off, so far as but to seem 
Like the faint, exquisite music of a dream; 


All was too much for him, too full of bliss, 
The heart could nothing feel, that felt not this ; 
Soften'd he sank upon a couch, and gave 
His soul up to sweet thoughts, like wave on wave 
Succeeding to smooth seas, when storms are laid ; 
He thought of ZELICA, his own dear maid, 
And of the time when, full of blissful sighs, 
They sat and look'd into each other's eyes, 
Silent and happy as if God had given 
Nought else worth looking at on this side heaven. 

" Oh, my lov'd mistress, thou, whose spirit still 
Is with me, round me, wander where I will 
It is for thee, for thee alone I seek 
The paths of glory ; to light up thy cheek 
With warm approval in that gentle look 
To read my praise, as in an angel's book, 
And think all toils rewarded, when from thee 
I gain a smile worth immortality ! 
How shall I bear the moment when restor'd 
To that young heart where I alone am Lord, 
Though of such bliss unworthy, since the best 
Alone deserve to be the happiest; 
When from those lips, unbreath'd upon for years, 
I shall again kiss off the soul-felt tears, 
And find those tears warm as when last they started, 
Those sacred kisses pure as when we parted ? 
O my own life ! why should a single day, 
A moment, keep me from those arms away ? " 

While thus he thinks, still nearer on the breze 
Come those delicious, dream-like harmonies, 
Each note of which but adds new, downy links 
To the soft chain in which his spirit sinks. 
He turns him tow'ru the sound, and far avvuv 


Through a long vista, sparkling with the play 

Of countless lamps, like the rich track which Day 

Leaves on the waters, when he sinks from us, 

So long the path, its light so tremulous ; 

He sees a group of female forms advance, 

Some chain'd together in the mazy dance 

By fetters, forged in the green sunny bowers, 

As they were captives to the King of Flowers ; 78 

And some disporting round, unlink'd and free, 

Who seem'd to mock their sisters' slavery ; 

And round and round them still, in wheeling flight, 

Went, like gay moths about a lamp at night ; 

While others walk'd, as gracefully along 

Their feet kept time, the very soul of song, 

From psaltery, pipe, and lutes of heavenly thrill, 

Or their own youthful voices, heavenlier still. 

And now they come, now pass before his eye, 

Forms such as Nature moulds, when she would vie 

With Fancy's pencil, and give birth to things, 

Lovely beyond its fairest picturings. 

Awhile they dance before him, then divide, 

Breaking, like rosy clouds at even-tide 

Around the rich pavilion of the sun, 

Till silently dispersing, one by one 

Through many a path, that from the chamber leads 

To gardens, terraces, and moonlight meads, 

Their distant laughter comes upon the wind, 

And but one trembling nymph remains behind, 

Beck'ning them back in vain, for they are gone, 

And she is left in all that light alone ; 

No veil to curtain o'er her beauteous brow, 

In its young bashfulness more beauteous now ; 

But a light golden chain-work round her hair, 79 

Such as the maids of YEZD 80 and SIIIRAS wear, 

From which, on either side, gracefully hung 


A golden amulet, in the Arab tongue 

Engraven o'er with some immortal line 

From Holy Writ, or bard scarce less divine ; 

While her left hand, as shrinkingly she stood, 

Held a small lute of gold and sandal-wood, 

Which, once or twice, she touch'd with hurried strain, 

Then took her trembling fingers off again. 

But when at length a timid glance she stole 

At AZIM, the sweet gravity of soul 

She saw through all his features calm'd her fear, 

And, like a half-tam'd antelope, more near, 

Though shrinking still, she came ; then sat her 


Upon a musnud's 81 edge, and, bolder grown, 
In the pathetic mode of ISFAHAN 82 
Touch'd a preluding strain, and thus began : 

There's a bower of roses by BKXDKMEKR'S 88 stream, 
And the nightingale sings round it all the day long; 

In the time of my childhood 'twas like a sweet dream, 
To sit in the roses and hear the bird's song. 

Tint bower and its music I never forget, 

Iut oft when alone in the bloom of the year, 

I think is the nightingale singing there yet ? 

Are the roses still bright by the calm BKXDEMEER? 

No, the roses soon wither'd that hung o'er the wave, 
But some blossoms were gather'd, while freshly they 

And a dew was distill'd from their flowers, that ga v e 
All the fragrance of summer, wlu-n summer was gone. 


Thus memory draws from delight, ere it dies, 
An essence that breathes of it many a year ; 

Thus bright to my soul, as 'twas then to my eyes, 
Is that bower on the banks of the calm BENDEMEEB. 

" Poor maiden ! " thought the youth, " if thou wert 


With thy soft lute and beauty's blandishment, 
To wake unholy wishes in this heart, 
Or tempt its truth, thou little know'st the art. 
For though thy lip should sweetly counsel wrong, 
Those vestal eyes would disavow its song. 
But thou hast breath'd such purity, thy lay 
Returns so fondly to youth's virtuous day, 
And leads thy soul if e'er it wander'd thence 
So gently back to its first innocence, 
That I would sooner stop the unchain'd dove, 
When swift returning to its home of love, 
And round its snowy wing new fetters twine, 
Than turn from virtue one pure wish of thine ! " 

Scarce had this feeling pass'd, when, sparkling 


The gently open'd curtains of light blue 
That veil'd the breezy casement, countless eyes, 
Peeping like stars through the blue evening skies, 
Look'd laughing in, as if to mock the pair 
That sat so still and melancholy there : 
And now the curtains fly apart, and in 
From the cool air, 'mid showers of jessamine 
Which those without fling after them in play, 
Two lightsome maidens spring. lightsome as they 
Who live in the air on odors, and around 
The bright saloon, scarce conscious of the ground, 
Chase one another, in a varying dance 


Of mirth and languor, coyness and advance, 
Too eloquently like love's warm pursuit : 
While she, who sung so gently to the lute 
Her dream of home, steals timidly away, 
Shrinking as violets do in summer's ray, 
But takes with her from AZIM'S heart that sigh 
We sometimes give to forms that pass us by 
In the world's crowd, too lovely to remain, 
('features of light we never see again ! 

Around the white necks of the nymphs who danc'd 
Hung carcanets of orient gems, that glanc'd 
More brilliant than the sea-glass glittering o'er 
The hills of crystal on the Caspian shore ; 84 
While from their long, dark tresses, in a fall 
Of curls descending, bells as musical 
As those that, on the golden-shafted trees 
Of EDEX, shake in the eternal breeze, 88 
Rung round their steps, at every bound more sweet, 
As 'twere the ecstatic language of their feet. 
At length the chase was o'er, and they stood wreath'd 
Within each other's arms ; while soft there breath'd 
Through the cool casement, mingled with the sighs 
Of moonlight flowers, music that seem'd to rise 
From some still lake, so liquidly it rose ; 
And, as it swell'd again at each faint close, 
The ear could truck, through all that maze of chorda 
And young sweet voices, these impassion'd \vords : 

A Spirit there is, whose fragrant sigh 
Is burning now through earth and air: 

Win-re checks are blushing, the Spirit is nigh; 
Where lips are meeting, the Spirit is there I 


His breath is the soul of flowers like these, 
And his floating eyes oh ! they resemble 8 * 

Blue water-lilies, 87 when the breeze 

Is making the stream around them tremble. 

Hail to thee, hail to thee, kindling power ! 

Spirit of Love, Spirit of Bliss ! 
Thy holiest time is the moonlight hour, 

And there never was moonlighv so sw r eet as this. 

By the fair and brave 

Who blushing unite, 
Like the sun and wave, 

When they meet at night ; 

By the tear that shows 

When passion is nigh, 
As the rain-drop flows 

From the heat of the sky ; 

By the first love-beat 

Of the youthful heart, 
By the bliss to meet, 

And the pain to part ; 

By all that thou hast 

To mortals given, 
Which oh, 'could it last. 

This earth were heaven ! 

We call thee hither, entrancing Power ! 

Spirit of Love ! Spirit of Bliss ! 
Thy holiest time is the moonlight hour, 

And there never was moonlight so sweet as this. 


Impatient of a scene whose luxuries stole, 
Spite of himself, too deep into his soul, 
And where, midst all that the young heart loves most 
Flowers, music, smiles to yield was to be lost, 
The youth had started up, and turn'd away 
From the light nymphs, and their luxurious lay, 
To muse upon the pictures that hung round, 88 
Bright images, that spoke without a sound ; 
And views, like vistas into fairy ground. 
But here again new spells came o'er his sense : 
All that the pencil's mute omnipotence 
Could call up into life, of soft and fair, 
Of fond and passionate, was glowing there ; 
Nor yet i,oo warm, but touch'd with that fine art 
Which paints of pleasure but the purer part ; 
Which knows even Beauty when half-veil'd is best, 
Like her own radiant planet of the west, 
Whose orb when half-retir'd looks loveliest. 89 
There hung the history of the Genii-King, 
Traced through each gay, voluptuous wandering 
With her from SABA'S bowers, in whose bright eyes 
He read that to be blest is to be wise ;* 
Here fond ZuLKiKA 91 woos with open arms 
The Hebrew boy, who flies from her young charms, 
Yet, flying, turns to gaxe, and, half undone, 
Wishes that Heaven and she could JmtJi be won ; 
And here MOIIAMMKD, Inirn for low and guile 
Forgets the Koran in his MAKY'S smile; 
Then U'ckons some kind angel from above 
With a new text to consecrate their low.* a 

Witli rapid step, yet pleas'd and ling'ring 
Did the youth pass these piotnrM stories by, 
And hasten'd to a casement, where the light 
Of the calm moon came in, and freshly bright 


The fields without were seen, sleeping as still 

As if no life remain'd in breeze or rill. 

Here paus'd he, while the music, now less near, 

Breath'd with a holier language on his ear, 

As though the distance, and that heavenly ray 

Through which the sounds came floating, took away 

All that had been too earthly in the lay. 

Oh ! could he listen to such sounds unmov'd, 
And by that light nor dream of her he lov'd ? 
Dream on, unconscious boy ! while yet thou may'st ; 
'Tis the last bliss thy soul shall ever taste. 
Clasp yet awhile her image to thy heart, 
Ere all the light, that made it dear, depart. 
Think of her smiles as when thou saw'st them last, 
Clear, beautiful, by nought of earth o'ercast ; 
Recall her tears, to thee at parting given, 
Pure as they weep, if angels weep, in Heaven. 
Think, in her own still bower she waits thee now, 
With the same glow of heart and bloom of brow, 
Yet shrin'd in solitude thine all, thine only, 
Like the one star above thee, bright and lonely. 
Oh ! that a dream so sweet, so long enjoy'd, 
Should be so sadly, cruelly destroy'd ! 

The song is hush'd, the laughing nymphs are flown, 
And he is left, musing of bliss, alone ; 
Alone ? no, not alone that heavy sigh, 
That sob of grief, which broke from some one nigh 
Whose could it be ? alas ! is misery found 
Here, even here, on this enchanted ground ? 
He turns, and sees a female form, close veil'd, 
Leaning, as if both heart and strength had fail'd, 
Against a pillar near ; not glittering o'er 
With gems and wreaths, such as the others wore, 


But in that deep-blue, melancholy dress, 98 

BOKHARA'S maidens wear in mindfulness 

Of friends or kindred, dead or far away ; 

And such as ZELICA had on that day 

He left her when, with heart too full to speak, 

He took away her last warm tears upon his cheek. 

A strange emotion stirs within him, more 
Than mere compassion ever wak'd before ; 
Unconsciously he opes his arms, while she 
Springs forward, as with life's last energy, 
But, swooning in that one convulsive bound, 
Sinks, ere she reach his arms, upon the ground ; 
Her veil falls off her faint hands clasp his knees 
'Tis she herself ! 'tis ZELICA he sees ! 
But, ah, so pale, so chang'd none but a lover 
Could in that wreck of beauty's shrine discover 
The once ador'd divinity even he 
Stood for some moments mute, and doubtingly 
Put back the ringlets from her brow, and gaz'd 
Upon those lids, where once such lustre blaz'd, 
Ere he could think she was indeed his own, 
Own darling maid, whom he so long had known 
In joy and sorrow, beautiful in both ; 
Who, even when grief was heaviest when loth 
He left her for the wars in that worst hour 
Sat in her sorrow like the sweet night-flower, 94 
When darkness brings its weeping glories out, 
And spreads its sighs like frankincense alxmt. 

"Look up, my ZELH-A one moment show 
Those gentle eyes to me, that I may know 
Thy life, thy loveliness is not all gone, 
But there, at least, shines as it ever shone. 
C'oine, look upon thy A/IM one dear glance, 


Like those of old, were heaven ! whatever chance 
Hath brought thee here, oh, 'twas a blessed one ! 
There my lov'd lips they move that kiss hath 


Like the first shoot of life through every vein, 
And now I clasp her, mine, all mine again. 
Oh the delight now, in this very hour, 
When had the whole rich world been in my power, 
I should have singled out thee, only thee, 
From the whole world's collected treasury 
To have thee here to hang thus fondly o'er 
My own, best, purest ZELICA once more ! " 

It was indeed the touch of those fond lips 
Upon her eyes that chas'd their short eclipse ; 
And, gradual as the snow, at Heaven's breath, - 
Melts off and shows the azure flowers beneath, 
Her lids unclos'd, and the bright eyes were seen 
Gazing on his not, as they late had been, 
Quick, restless, wild, but mournfully serene ; 
As if to lie, even for that tranced minute, 
So near his heart, had consolation in it ; 
And thus to wake in his belov'd caress 
Took from her soul one half its wretchedness. 
But, when she heard him call her good and pure, 
Oh, 'twas too much too dreadful to endure ! 
Shudd'ring she broke away from his embrace, 
And, hiding with both hands her guilty face, 
Said, in a tone whose anguish would have riven 
A heart of very marble, " Pure ! oh, Heaven ! " 

That tone those looks so chang'd the withering 


That sin and sorrow leave where'er they light ; 
The dead despondency of those sunk eyes, 


Where once, had he thus met her by surprise, 

He would have seen himself, too happy boy, 

Reflected in a thousand lights of joy ; 

And then the place, that bright, unholy place, 

Where vice lay hid beneath each winning grace 

And charm of luxury, as the viper weaves 

Its wily covering of sweet balsam leaves, 95 

All struck upon his heart, sudden and cold 

As death itself ; it needs not to be told 

No, no he sees it all, plain as the brand 

Of burning shame can mark whate'er the hand, 

That could from Heaven and him such brightness 


'Tis done to Heaven and him she's lost forever ! 
It was a dreadful moment ; not the tears, 
The lingering, lasting misery of years 
Could match that minute's anguish all the worst 
Of sorrow's elements in that dark burst 
Broke o'er his soul, and, with one crash of fate, 
Laid the whole hopes of his life desolate. 

"Oh ! curse me not," she cried, as wild he toss'd 
His desperate hand tow'rd Heaven " though I am 


Think not that guilt, that falsehood made me fall : 
No, no 'twas grief, 'twas madness did it all ! 
Nay, doubt me not though all thy love hath ceas'd 
I know it hath yet, yet believe, at least, 
That every spark of reason's light must be 
Quonoh'd in this brain, ere T could stray from thee. 
They told me tliou wert dead why, A/.IM, why 
Did we not, l>oth of us, that instant die 
Wheri \ve were parted ? Oh ! eouldst tliou but know 
With what a deep devotedness of woe 
I wept thy absence o'er and o'er again 


Thinking of thee, still thee, till thought grew pain, 
And memory, like a drop that, night and day, 
Falls cold and ceaseless, wore my heart away. 
Didst thou but know how pale I sat at home, 
My eyes still turn'd the way thou wert to come, 
And, all the long, long night of hope and fear, 
Thy voice and step still sounding in my ear 

God ! thou wouldst not wonder that, at last, 
When every hope was all at once o'ercast, 
When I heard frightful voices round me say, 
Azim is dead! this wretched brain gave way, 
And I became a wreck, at random driven, 
Without one glimpse of reason or of Heaven 
All wild and even this quenchless love within 
Turn'd to foul fires to light me into sin ! 

Thou pitiest me I knew thou wouldst that sky 

Hath nought beneath it half so lorn as I. 

The fiend who lur'd me hither hist ! come near, 

Or thou too, thou art lost, if he should hear 

Told me such things oh! with such devilish art 

As would have ruin'd even a holier heart 

Of thee, and of that ever-radiant sphere, 

Where bless'd at length, if I but serv'd him here, 

1 should forever live in thy dear sight, 

And drink from those pure eyes eternal light. 

Think, think hoAV lost, how madden'd I must be, 

To hope that guilt could lead to God or thee ! 

Thou weep'st for me do weep oh, that I durst 

Kiss off that tear ! but, no these lips are curst, 

They must not touch thee ; one divine caress, 

One blessed moment of forgetfulness 

I've had within those arms, and that shall lie, 

Shrin'd in my soul's deep memory till I die ; 

The last of joy's last relics here below, 

The one sweet drop, in all this waste of woe, 


My heart has treasur'd from affection's spring, 

To soothe and cool its deadly withering ! 

But thou yes, thou must go forever go ; 

This place is not for thee for thee ! oh no ! 

Did I but tell thee half, thy tortur'd brain 

Would burn like mine, and mine grow wild again ! 

Enough, that Guilt reigns here that hearts, once 


Now tainted, chill'd, and broken, are his food. 
Enough, that we are parted that there rolls 
A flood of headlong fate between our souls, 
Whose darkness severs me as wide from thee 
As hell from heaven, to all eternity ! " 

" ZELICA, ZELICA ! " the youth cxclaim'd, 
In all the tortures of a mind iunaiu'd 
Almost to madness "by that sacred Heaven, 
Where yet, if prayers can move, thou'lt be forgiven, 
As thou art here here, in this writhing heart, 
All sinful, wild, and ruin'd as thou art ! 
liy the remembrance of our once pure love, 
Which, like a churchyard light, still burns above 
The grave of our lost souls which guilt in thee 
Cannot extinguish, nor despair in me! 
I do conjure, implore thee to fly hence 
If thou hast yet one spark of innocence, 
Fly with me from this place 

"With thee! oh bliss! 

'Tis worth whole years of torment to hear this. 
What ! take the lost one with thee ? let her rove 
15y thy dear side, as in those days of love, 
Wlien we were both so happy, both so pure 
Too heavenly dream ! if there's on earth a cure 
For the sunk heart, 'tis this day after day 
To be tho blest companion of thy way; 


To hear thy angel eloquence to see 

Those virtuous eyes forever turn'd on me ; 

And, in their light re-chasten'd silently, 

Like the stain'd web that whitens in the sun, 

Grow pure by being purely shone upon ! 

And thou wilt pray for me I know thou wilt 

At the dim vesper hour, when thoughts of guilt 

Come heaviest o'er the heart, thou'lt lift thine eyes, 

Full of sweet tears, unto the dark'ning skies, 

And plead for me with Heaven, till I can dare 

To fix my own weak, sinful glances there ; 

Till the good angels, when they see me cling 

Forever near thee, pale and sorrowing, 

Shall for thy sake pronounce my soul forgiven, 

And bid thee take thy weeping slave to Heaven ! 

Oh yes, I'll fly with thee " 

Scarce had she said 

These breathless words, when a voice deep and dread 
As that of MOXKER, waking up the dead 
From their first sleep so startling 'twas to both 
Kung through the casement near, "Thy oath! thy 

oath ! " 

Oh Heaven, the ghastliness of that Maid's look ! 
" 'Tis he," faintly she cried, while terror shook 
Her inmost core, nor durst she lift her eyes, 
Though through the casement, now, nought but the 


And moonlit fields were seen, calm as before 
"'Tis he, and I am his all, all is o'er 
Go fly this instant, or thou'rt ruin'd too 
My oath, my oath, God ! 'tis all too true, 
True as the worm in this cold heart it is 
I am MOKANNA'S bride his, AZIM, his 
The Dead stood round us, while I spoke that vow ; 


Their blue lips echo'd it I hear them now ! 
Their eyes glar'd on me, while I pledg'd that bowl : 
'Twas burning blood I feel it in my soul ! 
And the Veil'd Bridegroom hist ! I've seen to-night 
What angels know not of so foul a sight, 
So horrible oh ! never may'st thou see 
What there lies hid from all but hell and me ! 
But I must hence off, off I am not thine, 
Nor Heaven's, nor Love's, nor aught that is divine 
Hold me not ha! think'st thou the fiends that sever 
Hearts, cannot sunder hands ? thus, then for- 

With all that strength which madness lends the 


She flung away his arm ; and, with a shriek, 
Whose sound, though he should linger out more years 
Than wretch e'er told, can never leave his ears 
Flew up through that long avenue of light, 
Fleetly as some dark, ominous bird of night 
Across the sun, and soon was out of sight ! 


LALLA ROOKH could think of nothing all day but the 
misery of these two young lovers. Her gayety "was 
gone, and she looked pensively even upon FADLADEEN. 
She felt, too, without knowing why, a sort of uneasy 
pleasure in imagining that AZIM must have been just 
such a youth as FERAMORZ ; just as worthy to enjoy all 
the blessings, without any of the pangs, of that illusive 
passion which too often, like the sunny apples of Istka- 
har, 96 is all sweetness on one side, and all bitterness on 
the other. 

As they passed along a sequestered river after sunset, 
they saw a young Hindoo girl upon the bank, 97 whose 
employment seemed to them so strange that they stopped 
their palankeens to observe her. She had lighted a 
small lamp, filled with oil of cocoa, and, placing it in an 
earthen dish, adorned with a wreath of flowers, had 
committed it with a trembling hand to the stream ; and 
was now anxiously watching its progress down the 
current, heedless of the gay cavalcade which had drawn 
up beside her. LALLA ROOKH was all curiosity ; when 
one of her attendants, who had lived upon the banks of 
the Ganges (where this ceremony is so frequent, that 
often, in the dusk of the evening, the river is seen glit- 
tering all over with lights, like the Oton-tala, or Sea of 
Stars 98 ), informed the Princess that it was the usual 
way in which the friends of those who had gone on 
dangerous voyages offered up vows for their safe return. 
If the lamp sunk immediately, the omen was disastrous ; 
but if it went shining down the stream, and continued to 
burn until entirely out of sight, the return of the beloved 
object was considered as certain. 


LALLA ROOKH, as they moved on, more than on -e 
looked back to observe how the young Hindoo's lamp 
proceeded ; and, while she saw with pleasure that it was 
still unextinguished, she could not help fearing that all 
the hopes of this life were no better than that feeble 
light upon the river. The remainder of the journey was 
passed in silence. She now, for the first time, felt that 
shade of melancholy which comes over the youthful 
maiden's heart, as sweet and transient as her own breath 
upon a mirror; nor was it till she heard the lute of 
FEK AMORZ, touched lightly at the door of her pavilion, that 
she waked from the reverie in which she had been wan- 
dering. Instantly her eyes were lighted up with pleasure ; 
and after a few unheard remarks from FADLADEEX, upon 
the indecorum of a poet seating himself in presence of a 
Princess, everything was arranged as on the preceding 
evening, and all listened with eagerness, while the story 
was thus continued : 


WHOSE are the gilded tents that crown the way, 

Where all was waste and silent yesterday ? 

This City of War, which, in a few short hours, 

Hath sprung up here," as if the magic powers 

Of Him who, in the twinkling of a star, 

Built the high pillar' d halls of CHILMINAK, IO 

Had conjur'd up, far as the eye can see, 

This world of tents, and domes, and sun-bright 

armory : 

Princely pavilions, screen'd by many a fold 
Of crimson cloth, and topp'd with balls of gold : 
Steeds, with their housings of rich silver spun, 
Their chains and poitrels, glittering in the sun ; 
And camels, tufted o'er with Yemen's shells, 101 
Shaking in every breeze their light-tbn'd bells ! 

But yester-eve, so motionless around, 
So mute was this wide plain, that not a sound 
But the far torrent, or the locust bird 102 
Hunting among the thickets, could be heard ; 
Yet hark ! what discords now, of every kind, 
Shouts, laughs, and screams are revelling in the wind ; 
The neigh of cavalry; the tinkling throngs 
Of laden camels and their drivers' songs ; 103 
Kinging of arms, and flapping in the breeze 
Of streamers from ten thousand canopies ; 
War music, bursting out from time to time, 
With gong and tymbalon's tremendous chime; 
Or, in the pause, when harsher sounds are mute, 
The mellow breathings of some horn or flute, 


That far off, broken by the eagle note 

Of the Abyssinian trumpet, 104 swell and float. 

Who leads this mighty army ? ask ye " who ? " 
And mark ye not those banners of dark hue, 
The Night and Shadow, 106 over yonder tent ? 
It is the CALIPH'S glorious armament. 
Roused in his Palace by the dread alarms, 
That hourly came, of the false Prophet's arms, 
And of his host of infidels, who hurl'd 
Defiance fierce at ISLAM 106 and the world, 
Though worn with Grecian warfare, and behind 
The veils of his bright Palace calm reclin'd, 
Yet brook'd he not such blasphemy should stain, 
Thus unreveng'd, the evening of his reign ; 
But, having sworn upon the Holy Grave 10T 
To conquer or to perish, once more gave 
His shadowy banners proudly to the breeze, 
And with an army, nurs'd in victories, 
Here stands to crush the rebels that o'errun 
His blest and beauteous Province of the Sun. 

Ne'er did the march of MAHADI display 
Such pomp be fore ; not even when on his way 
To MKCOA'S Temple, when both land and sea 
Were spoil'd to feed the Pilgrim's luxury ; 108 
When round him, 'mid the burning sands, he saw 
Fruits of the North in icy freshness thaw, 
And cool'd his thirsty lip, beneath the glow 
Of MECCA'S sun, with urns of Persian snow: 10 * 
Nor e'er did armament more grand than that 
Pour from the kingdoms of the (,'aliphat. 
First, in the van, the People of the IJock, 110 
On their light mountain steeds, of royal stock: 111 
Then, chieftains of DAMASCUS, proud to see 


The flashing of their swords' rich marquetry ; 112 
Men, from the regions near the VOLGA'S mouth, 
Mix'd with the rude, black archers of the South ; 
And Indian lancers, in white-turban'd ranks, 
From the far SINDE, or ATTOCK'S sacred banks, 
"With dusky legions from the land of Myrrh, 118 
And many a mace-arm'd Moor and Mid-sea islander. 

Nor less in number, though more new and rude 
In warfare's school, was the vast multitude 
That, fir'd by zeal, or by oppression wrong'd, 
Hound the white standard of the Impostor throng'd. 
Beside his thousands of Believers blind, 
Burning and headlong as the Samiel wind 
Many who felt, and more who fear'd to feel 
The bloody Islamite's converting steel, 
Flock'd to his banner ; Chiefs of the UZBEK race, 
Waving their heron crests with martial grace ; m 
TURKOMANS, countless as their flocks, led forth 
From the aromatic pastures of the North ; 
Wild warriors of the turquoise hills, 115 and those 
Who dwell beyond the everlasting snows 
Of HINDOO Kosii, 116 in stormy freedom bred, 
Their fort the rock, their camp the torrent's bed. 
But none, of all who own'd the Chief's command, 
Rush'd to that battle-field with bolder hand, 
Or sterner hate, than IRAN'S outlaw'd men, 
Her Worshippers of Fire 11T all panting then 
For vengeance on the accursed Saracen ; 
Vengeance at last for their dear country spurn'd, 
Her throne usurp'd, and her bright shrines o'eiturn'tn 
From YEZD'S 118 eternal Mansion of the Fire, 
Where aged saints in dreams of Heaven expire : 
From BADKU, and those fountains of blue flame 
That burn into the CASPIAN, 119 fierce they came, 


Careless for what or whom the blow was sped, 
So vengeance triumph'd, and their tyrants bled. 

Such was the wild and miscellaneous host, 
That high in air their motley banners tost 
Around the Prophet-Chief all eyes still bent 
Upon that glittering Veil, Avhere'er it went, 
That beacon through the battle's stormy flood, 
That rainbow of the field, whose showers were blood. 

Twice hath the sun upon their conflict set, 
And risen again, and found them grappling yet; 
While streams of carnage, in his noontide blaze, 
Smoke up to Heaven hot as that crimson haze 
By which the prostrate Caravan is aw'd, 120 
In the red Desert, when the wind's abroad. 
"On, Swords of God!" the panting CALIPH calls, 
" Thrones for the living Heaven for him who falls ! " 
" On, brave avengers, on," MOKAXXA cries, 
"And EBLIS blast the recreant slave that flies!" 
Now comes the brunt, the crisis of the day 
They clash they strive the CALIPH'S troops give 

way ! 

MOKANXA'S self plucks the black Banner down, 
And now the Orient World's Imperial crown 
Is just within his grasp when, hark, that shout! 
Some hand hath rheck'd the flying Moslems' rout; 
And now they turn, they rally at their head 
A warrior, (like those angel youths who led, 
In glorious panoply of heaven's own mail, 
The Champions of the Faith through BKDKK'S vale, 1 " 1 ) 
Bold as if gifted with ten thousand lives, 
Turns on the fierce pursuers' blades, and drives 
At once the multitudinous torrent back 
While hope and courage kindle in his track; 


And, at each step, his bloody falchion makes 
Terrible vistas through which victory breaks ! 
In vain MOKANNA, 'midst the general flight, 
Stands, like the red moon, on some stormy night, 
Among the fugitive clouds that, hurrying by, 
Leave only her unshaken in the sky 
In vain he yells his desperate curses out, 
Deals death promiscuously to all about, 
To foes that charge and coward friends that fly, 
And seems of all the Great Arch-enemy. 
The panic spreads " A miracle ! " throughout 
The Moslem ranks, " a miracle ! " they shout, 
All gazing on that youth, whose coming seems 
A light, a glory, such as breaks in dreams ; 
And every sword, true as o'er billows dim 
The needle tracks the lodestar, following him ! 

Eight tow'rds MOKANNA" now he cleaves his path, 
Impatient cleaves, as though the bolt of wrath 
He bears from Heaven withheld its awful burst 
From weaker heads, and souls but half way curst, 
To break o'er Him, the mightiest and the worst ! 
But vain his speed though, in that hour of blood, 
Had all God's seraphs round MOKANNA stood, 
With swords of fire, ready like fate to fall, 
MOKANNA'S soul would have defied them all ; 
Yet now, the rush of fugitives, too strong 
For human force, hurries even him along ; 
In vain he struggles 'mid the wedg'd array 
Of flying thousands he is borne away ; 
And the sole joy his baffled spirit knows, 
In this forc'd flight, is murdering as he goes ! 
As a grim tiger, whom the torrent's might 
Surprises in some parch'd ravine at night, 
Turns, even in drowning, on the wretched flocks, 


Swept with him in that snow-flood from the rocks, 
And, to the last, devouring on his way, 
Bloodies the stream he hath not power to stay. 

"Alia ilia Alia! " the glad shout renew 
"Alia Akbar!" 122 the Caliph's in MEROU. 
Hang out your gilded tapestry in the streets, 
And light your shrines and chant your ziraleets. 121 
The Swords of God have triumph'd on his throne 
Your Caliph sits, and the Veil'd Chief hath flown. 
Who does not envy that young warrior now, 
To whom the Lord of Islam bends his brow, 
In all the graceful gratitude of power, 
For his throne's safety in that perilous hour ? 
Who doth not wonder, when, amidst the acclaim 
Of thousands, heralding to heaven his name 
'Mid all those holier harmonies of fame, 
Which sound along the path of virtuous souls, 
Like music round a planet as it rolls, 
He turns away coldly, as if some gloom 
Hung o'er his heart no triumphs can illume; 
Som; sightless grief, upon whose bhisted gaze 
Though (Jlory's light may play, in vain it plays ? 
Yes, wretched AZIM ! thine is such a grief, 
Beyond all hope, all terror, all relief; 
A dark, cold calm, which nothing now can break, 
Or warm or brighten, like that Syrian Lak.-, 124 
Upon whose surface morn and summer shed 
Their smiles in vain, for all beneath is dead ! 
Hearts there have been, o'er which this weight of woe 
Came by long use of suffering, tame and slow ; 
But thine, lost youth ! was sudden over thce 
It broke at once, when all seem'd ecstasy ; 
When Hope look'd up, and saw the gloomy Vast 
Melt into splendor, and I'.liss dawn at hust 


'Twas then, even then, o'er joys so freshly blown, 
This mortal blight of misery came down ; 
Even then, the full, warm gushings of thy heart 
Were check'd like fount-drops, frozen as they 


And there, like them, cold, sunless relics hang, 
Each fix'd and chill'd into a lasting pang. 

One sole desire, one passion now remains 
To keep life's fever still within his veins, 
Vengeance ! dire vengeance on the wretch who 


O'er him and all he lov'd that ruinous blast. 
For this, when rumors reach'd him in his flight 
Far, far away, after that fatal night, 
Rumors of armies, thronging to the attack 
Of the Veil'd Chief, for this he wing'd him back, 
Fleet as the vulture speeds to flags unfurl'd, 
And, when all hope seem'd desperate, wildly hurl'd 
Himself into the scale, and saved a world. 
For this he still lives on, careless of all 
The wreaths that Glory on his path lets fall ; 
For this alone exists like lightning-fire, 
To speed one bolt of vengeance, and expire ! 

, But safe as yet that Spirit of Evil lives ; 
With a small band of desperate fugitives, 
The last sole stubborn fragment, left unriven, 
Of the proud host that late stood fronting Heaven, 
He gain'd MEROU breath'd a short curse of blood 
O'er his lost throne then pass'd the JIHON'S flood, 121 
And gathering all, whose madness of belief 
Still saw a Saviour in their down-fall'n Chief, 
Rais'd the white banner within NEKSHEB'S gates, 128 
And there, untam'd, the approaching conqu'ror waits. 


Of all his H?.ram, all that busy hive, 
With music ar .1 with sweets sparkling alive, 
He took but oie, the partner of his flight, 
One not fci love not for her beauty's light 
No, ZEL'CA stood withering 'midst the gay, 
Wan as he blossom that fell yesterday 
From tlie Alma tree and dies, while overhead 
To-day's young flower is springing in its stead. 127 
Oh, not for love the deepest Damn'd must be 
Touch'd with Heaven's glory, ere such fiends as he 
Can feel one glimpse of Love's divinity. 
But no, she is his victim ; there lie all 
Her charms for him charms that can never pall, 
As long as hell within his heart can stir, 
Or one faint trace of Heaven is left in her. 
To work an angel's ruin, to behold 
As white a page as Virtue e'er unroll'd 
Blacken, beneath his touch, into a scroll 
Of damning sins, seal'd with a burning soul 
This is his triumph ; this the joy accurst, 
That ranks him among demons all but first: 
This gives the victim, that before him lies 
Blighted and lost, a glory in his eyes, 
A light like; that with which hell-lire illumes 
The ghastly, writhing wretch whom it consumes ! 

But other tasks now wait him tasks that need 
All the deep daringness of thought and deeu 
With which the Dives 128 have gii'ted him for mark, 
Over yon plains, which night had else made dark, 
Those lanterns, countless :us the winged lights 
That spangle INDIA'S fields on showery nights, 129 
Far lus their formidable gleams they shed, 
The mighty tents of the beleajjuerer spread, 
Glimmering along the horizon's dusky line, 


And thence in nearer circles, till they shine 

Among the founts and groves, o'er which the town 

In all its arm'd magnificence looks down. 

Yet, fearless, from his lofty battlements 

MOKANNA views that multitude of tents ; 

Nay, smiles to think that, though entoiFd, beset, 

Not less than myriads dare to front him yet ; 

That friendless, throneless, he thus stands at bay, 

Even thus a match for myriads such as they. 

" Oh, for a sweep of that dark Angel's wing, 

Who brush'd the thousands of the Assyrian King 18 

To darkness in a moment, that I might 

People Hell's chambers with yon host to-night ! 

But, come what may, let who will grasp the throne, 

Caliph or Prophet, Man alike shall groan ; 

Let who will torture him Priest, Caliph, King 

Alike this loathsome world of his shall ring 

With victims' shrieks, and bowlings of the slave, 

Sounds that shall glad me even within my grave ! " 

Thus, to himself ; but to the scanty train 

Still left around him, a far different strain : 

" Glorious Defenders of the sacred Crown 

I bear from Heaven, whose light nor blood sha"" 


Nor shadow of earth eclipse ; before whose gems 
The paly pomp of this world's diadems, 
The crown of GERASHID, the pillar'd throne 
Of PARviz, 181 and the heron crest that shone, 182 
Magnificent, o'er ALI'S beauteous eyes, 133 
Fade like the stars when morn is in the skies : 
Warriors, rejoice the port to which we've pass'd 
O'er Destiny's dark wave, beams out at last ! 
Victory's our own 'tis written in that Book 
Upon whose leaves none but the angels look, 
That ISLAM'S sceptre shall beneath the power 


Of her great foe fall broken in that hour, 
When the moon's mighty orb, before all eyes, 
From NEKSHEB'S Holy Well portentously shall rise ! 

Now turn and see ! " 

They turn'd, and, as he spoke, 
A sudden splendor all around them broke, 
And they beheld an orb, ample and bright, 
Rise from the Holy Well, 134 and cast its light 
Round the rich city and the plain for miles, 185 
Flinging such radiance o'er the gilded tiles 
Of many a dome and fair-roof'd minaret 
As autumn suns shed round them when they set. 
Instant from all who saw the illusive sign 
A murmur broke " Miraculous ! divine ! " 
The Gheber bow'd, thinking his idol star 
Had wak'd and burst impatient through the bar 
Of midnight, to inflame him to the war ; 
While he of MOUSSA'S creed saw, in that ray, 
The glorious Light which, in his freedom's day, 
Had rested on the Ark, 186 and now again 
Shone out to bless the breaking of his chain. 

" To victory ! " is at once the cry of all 
Nor stands MOKAXXA loitering at that call; 
Hut instant the huge gates are flung aside, 
And forth, like a diminutive mountain-tide 
Into the boundless sea, they speed their course 
Right on into the MOSLKM'S mighty force. 
The watchmen of the camp. who, in their rounds, 
Had paus'd, and even forgot the punctual sounds 
Of the small drum with which they count the night, 1 " 
To gaze upon that supernatural light, 
Now sink beneath an unexpected arm. 
And in a death-groan give their last alarm. 
" On for the lamps, that light yon lofty screen, 111 


Nor blunt your blades with massacre so mean ; 
There rests the CALIPH speed one lucky lance 
May now achieve mankind's deliverance." 
Desperate the die such as they only cast 
Who venture for a world, and stake their last. 
But Fate's no longer with him blade for blade 
Springs up to meet them through the glimmering 


And, as the clash is heard, new legions soon 
Pour to the spot, like bees of KAUZEROON 139 
To the shrill timbrel's summons, till, at length, 
The mighty camp swarms out in all its strength, 
And back to XEKSHEB'S gates, covering the plain 
With random slaughter, drives the adventurous train ; 
Among the last of whom the Silver Veil 
Is seen glittering at times, like the white sail 
Of some toss'd vessel, on a stormy night, 
Catching the tempest's momentary light ! 

And hath not this brought the proud spirit low ? 
Nor dash'd his brow, nor check'd his daring ? No. 
Though half the wretches, whom at night he led 
To thrones and victory, lie disgrac'd and dead, 
Yet morning hears him, with unshrinking crest, 
Still vaunt of thrones and victory. to the rest ; 
And they believe him ! oh, the lover may 
Distrust that look which steals his soul away ; 
The babe may cease to think that it can play 
With Heaven's rainbow ; alchymists may doubt 
The shining gold their crucible gives out ; 
But Faith, fanatic Faith, once wedded fast 
To some dear falsehood, hugs it to the last. 

And well the Impostor knew all lures and arts 
That LUCIFER e'er taught to tangle hearts ; 


Nor, 'mid these last bold workings of his plot 

Against men's souls, is ZELICA forgot. 

Ill-fated ZELICA ! had reason been 

Awake, through half the horrors thou hast seen, 

Thou never couldst have borne it Death had come 

At once, and taken thy wrung spirit home. 

But 'twas not so a torpor, a suspense 

Of thought, almost of life, canie o'er the intense 

And passionate struggles of that fearful night, 

When her last hope of peace and heaven took flight : 

And though, at times, a gleam of frenzy broke, 

As through some dull volcano's veil of smoke 

Ominous flashings now and then will start, 

Which show the fire's still busy at its heart, 

Yet was she mostly wrapp'd in solemn gloom ; 

Not such as AZIM'S, brooding o'er its doom, 

And calm without, as is the brow of death, 

While busy worms are gnawing underneath, 

But in a blank and pulseless torpor, free 

From thought or pain, a seal'd-up apathy, 

Which left her oft, with scarce one living thrill, 

The cold, pale victim of her torturer's will. 

Again, as in MKROU, lie had her deck'd 
Gorgeously out, the Priestess of the sect ; 
And led her glittering forth before the eyes 
Of his rude train, as to a sacrifice. 
Pallid as she, the young, devoted Bride 
Of the fierce NILE, when, deek'd in all the pride 
Of nuptial pomp, she sinks into his tide. 140 
And while the wretched maid hung down her head, 
And stood, ;us one just risen from the dead. 
Amid that ga/iiig crowd, the fiend would tell 
His credulous slaves it was some charm or spell 
Poasess'd hwr now, and from that darkuu'd trance 


Should dawn ere long their Faith's deliverance. 

Or if, at times, goaded by guilty shame, 

Her soul was rous'd, and words of wildness came, 

Instant the bold blasphemer would translate 

Her ravings into oracles of fate, 

Would hail Heaven's signals in her flashing eyes, 

And call her shrieks the language of the skies ! 

But vain at length his arts despair is seen 
Gathering around; and famine comes to glean 
All that the sword had left unreap'd : in vain 
At morn and eve across the northern plain 
He looks impatient for the promis'd spears 
Of the wild Hordes and TARTAR mountaineers ; 
They come not while his fierce beleaguerers pour 
Engines of havoc in, unknown before, 141 
And horrible as new; 142 javelins, that fly 
Enwreath'd with smoky flames through the dark sky, 
And red-hot globes, that, opening as they mount, 
Discharge, as from a kindled Naphtha fount, 148 
Showers of consuming fire o'er all below ; 
Looking, as through the illumin'd night they go, 
Like those wild birds 144 that by the Magians oft, 
At festivals of fire, were sent aloft 
Into the air, with blazing fagots tied 
To their huge wings, scattering combustion wide. 
All night the groans of wretches who expire 
In agony, beneath these darts of fire, 
Ring through the city while, descending o'er 
Its shrines and domes and streets of sycamore, 
Its lone bazaars, with their bright cloths of gold, 
Since the last peaceful pageant left unroll'd, 
Its beauteous marble baths, whose idle jets 
Now gush with blood, and its tall minarets, 
That late have stood up in the evening glare 


Of the red sun, unhallow'd by a prayer ; 
O'er each, in turn, the dreadful flame-bolts fall, 
And death and conflagration throughout all 
The desolate city hold high festival ! 

MOKANNA sees the world is his no more ; 
One sting at parting, and his grasp is o'er. 
"What! drooping now?" thus, with unblushing 


He hails the few, who yet can hear him speak, 
Of all those famish'd slaves around him lying, 
And by the light of blazing temples dying ; 
"What! drooping now? now, when at length we 


Home o'er the very threshold of success ; 
When ALLA from our ranks hath thinn'd away 
Those grosser branches, that kept out his ray 
Of favor from us, and we stand at length 
Heirs of his light and children of his strength, 
The chosen few, who shall survive the fall 
Of Kings and Thrones, triumphant over all ! 
Have you then lost, weak murmurers as you are, 
All faith in him, who was your Light, your Star? 
Have you forgot the eye of glory, hid 
"Beneath this Veil, the flashing of whose lid 
Could, like a sun-stroke of the desert, wither 
Millions of such as yonder Chief brings hither? 
Long have its lightnings slept too long but now 
All earth shall feel the unveiling of this brow ! 
To-night yes, sainted men! this very night, 
I bid you all to a fair festal rite, 
Where having deep refresh'd each weary limb 
With viands, such as feast Heaven's cherubim, 
And kindled up your souls, now sunk and dim, 
With that pure wine the Dark -eyed Maids above 


Keep, seal'd with precious musk, for those they 

love, 145 

I will myself uncurtain in your sight 
The wonders of this brow's ineffable light ; 
Then lead you forth, and with a wink disperse 
Yon myriads, howling through the universe ! " 

Eager they listen, while each accent darts 
New life into their chill'd and hope-sick hearts ; 
Such treacherous life as the cool draught supplies 
To him upon the stake, who drinks and dies ! 
Wildly they point their lances to the light 
Of the fast sinking sun, and shout " To-night ! " 
" To-night ! " their Chief re-echoes in a voice 
Of fiend-like mockery that bids hell rejoice. 
Deluded victims ! never hath this earth 
Seen mourning half so mournful as their mirth. 
Here, to the few, whose iron frames had stood 
This racking waste of famine and of blood, 
Faint, dying wretches clung, from whom the shout 
Of triumph like a maniac's laugh broke out : 
There, others, lighted by the smould'ring fire, 
Danc'd like wan ghosts about a funeral pyre, 
Among the dead and dying, strew'd around ; 
While some pale wretch look'd on, and from his 


Plucking the fiery dart by which he bled, 
In ghastly transport wav'd it o'er his head ! 

'Twas more than midnight now a fearful pause 
Had follow'd the long shouts, the wild applause, 
That lately from those Royal Gardens burst, 
Where the Veil'd demon held his feast accurst, 
When ZELTCA alas, poor ruin'd heart, 
In every horror doom'd to bear its part ! 


Was bidden to the banquet by a slave, 

Who, while his quivering lip the summons gave, 

Grew black, as though the shadows of the grave 

Compass'd him round, and, ere he could repeat 

His message through, fell lifeless at her feet ! 

Shuddering she went a soul-felt pang of fear, 

A presage that her own dark doom was near, 

Rous'd every feeling, and brought Reason back 

Once more, to writhe her last upon the rack. 

All round seem'd tranquil even the foe had ceas'd, 

As if aware of that demoniac feast, 

His fiery bolts ; and though the heavens look'd red, 

'Twas but some distant conflagration's spread. 

But hark she stops she listens dreadful tone, 

'Tis her Tormentor's laugh and now, a groan, 

A long death-groan comes with it : can this be 

The place of mirth, the bower of revelry ? 

She enters Holy ALLA, what a sight 

Was there before her ! By the glimmering light 

Of the pale dawn, mix'd with the flare of brands 

That round lay burning, dropp'd from lifeless hands, 

She saw the board, in splendid mockery spread, 

Rich censers breathing garlands overhead 

The urns, the cups, from which they late had quaff d, 

All gold and gems, but what had been the draught ? 

Oli ! who need ask, that saw those livid guests, 

With their swoll'n heads sunk black'ning on their 


Or looking pale to Heaven with glassy glare, 
As if they sought but saw no mercy there ; 
As if they felt, though poison raek'd them through, 
Remorse the deadlier torment of the two! 
While some, the bravest, hardiest of the train 
Of their false Chief, who on the battle-plain 
Would have met death with transport by his side, 


Here mute and helpless gasp'd ; but, as they died, 
Look'd horrible vengeance with their eyes' last strain, 
And clench'd the slack'ning hand at him in vain. 

Dreadful it was to see the ghastly stare, 
The stony look of horror and despair, 
Which some of these expiring victims cast 
Upon their souls' tormentor to the last ; 
Upon that mocking Fiend, whose Veil, now rais'd, 
Show'd them, as in death's agony they gazed, 
Not the long prornis'd light, the brow, whose beaming 
Was to come forth, all conquering, all redeeming, 
But features horribler than Hell e'er trac'd 
On its own brood ; no Demon of the Waste, 146 
No churchyard Ghole, caught lingering in the light 
Of the blest sun, e'er blasted human sight 
With lineaments so foul, so fierce as those 
The Impostor, now in grinning mockery, shows : 
"There, ye wise Saints, behold your Light, youi 


Ye would be dupes and victims, and ye are. 
Is it enough ? or must I, while a thrill 
Lives in your sapient bosoms, cheat you still ? 
Swear that the burning death ye feel within 
Is but the trance with which Heaven's joys begin ; 
That this foul visage, foul as e'er disgrac'd 
Even monstrous man, is after God's own taste ; 
And that but see ! ere I have half-way said 
My greetings through, the uncourteous souls are fled. 
Farewell, sweet spirits ! not in vain ye die, 
If EBLIS loves you half so well as I. 
Ha, my young bride ! 'tis well take thou thy seat; 
Kay, come no shuddering didst thou never meet 
The dead before ? they grac'd our wedding, sweet ; 
And these, my guests to-night, have brimm'd so true 


Their parting cups, that thou shalt pledge one too. 

But how is this ? all empty ? all drunk up ? 

Hot lips have been before thee in the cup, 

Young bride, yet stay one precious drop remains, 

Enough to warm a gentle Priestess' veins : 

Here, drink and should thy lover's conquering arms 

Speed hither, ere thy lip lose all its charms, 

Give him but half this venom in thy kiss, 

And I'll forgive my haughty rival's bliss ! 

"For me I too must die but not like these 
Vile, rankling things, to fester in the breeze ; 
To have this brow in ruffian triumph shown, 
With all Death's grimness added to its own, 
And rot to dust beneath the taunting eyes 
Of slaves, exclaiming, ' There his Godship lies ! ' 
No cursed race since first my soul drew breath, 
They've been my dupes, and shall be e'en in death. 
Thou see'st yon cistern in the shade 'tis fill'd 
With burning drugs, for this last hour distill'd: 147 
There will I plunge me, in that liquid flame 
Fit bath to lave a dying Prophet's frame ! 
There perish, all ere pulse of thine shall fail 
Nor leave one limb to tell mankind the tale. 
So shall my votaries, wheresoeYr they rave, 
Proclaim that Heaven took back the Saint it gave; 
That I've but vanish'd from this earth awhile, 
To come again, with bright, unshrouded smile ! 
So shall they build me altars in their xeal, 
When- knaves shall minister, and fools shall kneel; 
Where Faith may mutter o'er her mystic spell, 
Written in blood and Higotry may swell 
The sail he spreads for Heaven with blasts from hell! 
So shall my banner, through long ages, be 
The rallying sign of fraud and anarchy : 


Kings yet unborn shall rue MOKANNA'S name, 
And, thougli I die, my spirit, still the same, 
Shall walk abroad in all the stormy strife, 
And guilt, and blood, that were its bliss in life. 
But, hark ! their battering engine shakes the wall 
Why, let it shake thus I can brave them all. 
No trace of me shall greet them, when they come, 
And I can trust thy faith, for thou'lt be dumb. 
Now mark how readily a wretch like me, 
In one bold plunge, commences Deity ! " 

He sprung and sunk, as the last words were said 
Quick clos'd the burning waters o'er his head, 
And ZELICA was left within the ring 
Of those wide walls the only living thing ; 
The only wretched one, still curs'd with breath, 
In all that frightful wilderness of death ! 
More like some bloodless ghost such as, they tell, 
In the lone Cities of the Silent 148 dwell, 
And there, unseen of all but ALLA, sit 
Each by its own pale carcase, watching it. 

But morn is up, and a fresh warfare stirs 
Throughout the camp of the beleaguerers. 
Their globes of fire (the dread artillery lent 
By GREECE to conquering MAHADI) are spent ; 
And now the scorpion's shaft, the quarry sent 
From high ballistas, and the shielded throng 
Of soldiers swinging the huge ram along, 
All speak the impatient Islamite's intent 
To try, at length, if tower and battlement 
And-bastion'd wall be not less hard to win, 
Less tough to break down than the hearts within. 
First in impatience and in toil is he, 
The burning AZIM oh ! could he but see 


The Impostor once alive within his grasp, 
Not the gaunt lion's hug, nor boa's clasp, 
Could match that gripe of vengeance, or keep pace 
With the fell heartiness of Hate's embrace ! 

Loud rings the ponderous rain against the walls ; 
Now shake the ramparts, now a buttress falls, 
But still no breach " Once more, one mighty 


Of all your beams, together thundering ! " 
There the wall shakes the shouting troops exult, 
"Quick, quick discharge your weightiest catapult 
Right on that spot, and XKKSHKU is our own !" 
'Tis done the battlements come crashing down, 
And the huge wall, by that stroke riven in two, 
Yawning, like some old crater, rent anew, 
Shows the dim, desolate city smoking through. 
But strange ! no signs of life nought living seen 
Above, below what can this stillness mean ? 
A minute's pause suspends all hearts and eyes 
" In through the breach ! " impetuous AZIM cries; 
But the cool CALIPH, fearful of some wile 
In tins blank stillness, checks the troops awhile. 
Just then, a figure, with slow step, advanc'd 
Forth from the ruin'd walls, and, as there glanc'd 
A sunbeam over it, all eyes could see 
The well-known Silver Veil ! "Tis He, 'tis He, 
MOKAXXA, and alone! " they shout around; 
Young AZIM from his steed springs to the ground 
'Mine, Holy CALIPH! mine," he cries, "the task 
To crush yon daring wretch 'tis all I ask." 
Eager he darts to meet the demon foe, 
Who still across wide heaps of ruin slow 
And falteringly comes, till they are near ; 
Then, with ;i Ixjund, rushes on A/.IM'S spear, 


And, casting off the Veil in falling, shows 
Oh ! 'tis his ZELICA'S life-blood that flows ! 

" I meant not, AZIM," soothingly she said, 
As on his trembling arm she lean'd her head, 
And, looking in his face, saw anguish there 
Beyond all wounds the quivering flesh can bear 
" I meant not thou shouldst have the pain of this : 
Though death, with thee thus tasted, is a bliss 
Thou wouldst not rob me of, didst thou but know 
How oft I've pray'd to God I might die so ! 
But the Fiend's venom was too scant and slow ; 
To linger on were maddening and I thought 
If once that Veil nay, look not on it caught 
The eyes of your fierce soldiery, I should be 
Struck by a thousand death-darts instantly. 
But this is sweeter oh ! believe me, yes 
I would not change this sad, but dear caress, 
This death within thy arms I would not give 
For the most smiling life the happiest live ! 
All, that stood dark and drear before the eye 
Of my stray'd soul, is passing swiftly by ; 
A light comes o'er me from those looks of love, 
Like the first dawn of mercy from above ; 
And if thy lips but tell me I'm forgiven, 
Angels will echo the blest words in Heaven ! 
But live, my AZIM ; oh ! to call thee mine 
Thus once again ! my AZIM dream divine ! 
Live, if thou ever lov'dst me, if to meet 
Thy ZELICA hereafter would be sweet, 
Oh, live to pray for her to bend the knee 
Morning and night before that Deity, 
To whom pure lips and hearts without a stain, 
As thine are, AZIM, never breath'd in vain, 
And pray that He may pardon her, may take 


Compassion on her soul for thy dear sake, 

And, nought remembering but her love to thee, 

Make her all thine, all His, eternally ! 

Go to those happy fields where first we twin'd 

Our youthful hearts together every wind 

That meets thee there, fresh from the well-known 


Will bring the sweetness of those innocent hours 
Back to thy soul, and mayst thou feel again 
For thy poor ZELICA as thou didst then. 
So shall thy orisons, like dew that flies 
To Heaven upon the morning's sunshine, rise 
With all love's earliest ardor to the skies ! 
And should they but, alas, my senses fail 
Oh for one minute! should thy prayers prevail 
If pardon'd souls may, from that World of Bliss, 
Reveal their joy to those they love in this 
I'll come to thee in some sweet dream and tell . 
Oh Heaven I die dear love ! farewell, farewell ! " 

Time fleeted years on years had pass'd away, 
And few of those who, on that mournful day, 
Had stood, with pity in their eyes, to see 
Tho maiden's death and the youth's agony, 
Were living still when, by a rustic grave, 
Beside the swift AMOO'S transparent wave, 
An aged man, who had grown aged there 
By that lone grave, morning and night in prayer, 
For the last time knelt down and, though the shade 
Of death hung darkening over him, there play'd 
A gleam of rapture on his eye and check, 
That brighten'd even Death like the last streak 
Of intense glory on the horizon's brim, 
When night o'er all the rest hangs chill and dim. 
His soul had seen a Vision, while he slept ; 


She, for whose spirit he had pray'd and wept 

So many years, had come to him, all drest 

In angel smiles, and told him she was blest ! 

For this the old man breath'd his thanks, and died. 

And there, upon the banks of that lov'd tide, 

[Ie and his ZELICA sleep side by side. 


THE story of the Veiled Prophet of Khorassan being 
ended, they were now doomed to hear FADLADEEN'S criti- 
cisms upon it. A series of disappointments and accidents 
had occurred to this learned Chamberlain during the 
journey. In the first place, those couriers stationed, as 
in the reign of Shah Jehan, between Delhi and the 
Western coast of India, to secure a constant supply of 
mangoes for the Koyal Table, had, by some cruel irregu- 
larity, failed in their duty ; and to eat any mangoes but 
those of Mazagong was, of course, impossible. 149 In the 
next place, the elephant, laden with his fine antique por- 
celain, 160 had, in an unusual fit of liveliness, shattered 
the whole set to pieces : an irreparable loss, as many 
of the vessels were so exquisitely old, as to have been 
used under the Emperors Van and Chun, who reigned 
many ages before the dynasty of Tang. His Koran, too, 
supposed to be the identical copy between the leaves of 
which Mahomet's favorite pigeon used to nestle, had 
been mislaid by his Koran-bearer three whole days ; not 
without much spiritual alarm to FADLADEE.V, who, 
though professing to hold with other loyal and orthodox 
Mussulmans, that salvation could only be found in the 
Koran, was strongly suspected of believing in his heart, 
that it could only be found in his own particular copy of 
it. When to all these grievances is added the obstinacy 
of the cooks, in putting tho, pepper of Canara into his 
dishes instead of tho cinnamon of Serendib, we may 
easily suppose that he came to tho task of criticism 
with, at least, a suftieient degree of irritability for the 


'In order," said he, importantly swinging about his 
chaplet of pearls, " to convey with clearness my opinion 
of the story this young man has related, it is necessary 
to take a review of all the stories that have ever 
"My good FADLADEEN!" exclaimed the Princess, in- 
terrupting him, " we really do not deserve that you should 
give yourself so much trouble. Your opinion of the poem 
we have just heard will, I have no doubt, be abundantly 
edifying, without any further waste of your valuable 
erudition." "If that be all," replied the critic, evi- 
dently mortified at not being allowed to show how much 
he knew about everything but the subject immediately 
before him, "if that be all that is required the matter 
is easily despatched." He then proceeded to analyze the 
poem, in that strain (so well known to the unfortunate 
bards of Delhi) whose censures were an infliction from 
which few recovered, and whose very praises were like 
the honey extracted from the bitter flowers of the aloe. 
The chief personages of the story were, if he rightly 
understood them, an ill-favored gentleman, with a veil 
over his face; a young lady, whose reason went and 
came, according as it suited the poet's convenience to be 
sensible or otherwise ; and a youth in one of those 
hideous Bucharian bonnets, who took the aforesaid gen- 
tleman in a veil for a Divinity. " From such materials," 
said he, " what can be expected ? after rivalling each 
other in long speeches and absurdities, through some 
thousands of lines as indigestible as the filberts of Ber- 
daa, our friend in the veil jumps into a tub of aquafortis ; 
the young lady dies in a set speech, whose only recom- 
mendation is that it is her last ; and the lover lives on 
to a good old age for the laudable purpose of seeing her 
ghost, which he at last happily accomplishes, and expires. 
This, you will allow, is a fair summary of the story j 
and if Nasser, the Arabian merchant, told no better, 151 


our Holy Prophet (to whom be all honor and glory !) 
had no need to be jealous of his abilities for story- 

With respect to the style, it was worthy of the matter ; 
it had not even those politic contrivances of structure, 
which make up for the commonness of the thoughts by 
the peculiarity of the manner, iior that stately poetical 
phraseology by which sentiments mean in themselves, 
like the blacksmith's 15a apron converted into a banner, 
are so easily gilt and embroidered into consequence. 
Then, as to the versification, it was, to say no worse of 
it, execrable : it had neither the copious flow of Ferdosi, 
the sweetness of Hafez, nor the sententious march of 
Sadi ; but appeared to him, in the uneasy heaviness of 
its movements, to have been modelled upon the gait of a 
very tired dromedary. The licenses, too, in which 
it indulged, were unpardonable; for instance, this 
line, and the poem abounded with such : 

Like the faint, exquisite music of a dream. 

" What critic that can count," said FADLADEEX, "and ha.' 
his full complement of fingers to count withal, would tol- 
erate for an instant sucli syllabic superfluities ? " He 
here looked round, and discovered that most of his audi- 
ence were asleep ; while the glimmering lamps seemed 
inclined to follow their example. It became necessary, 
therefore, however painful to himself, to put an end to 
his valuable animadversions for the present, and he 
accordingly concluded, with an air of dignified candor, 
thus : " Notwithstanding the observations which I have 
thought it my duty to make, it is by no means my wish 
to discourage the young man : HO far from it, indeed, 
that if he will but totally alter his style of writing and 


thinking, I have very little doubt that I shall be vastly 
pleased with him." 

Some days elapsed, after this harangue of the Great 
Chamberlain, before LALLA ROOKH could venture to ask 
for another story. The youth was still a welcome guest 
in the pavilion to one heart, perhaps, too dangerously 
welcome : but all mention of poetry was, as if by com- 
mon consent, avoided. Though none of the party had 
much respect for FADLADEEX, yet his censures, thus 
magisterially delivered, evidently made an impression on 
them all. The Poet himself, to whom criticism was quite 
a new operation (being wholly unknown in that Paradise 
of the Indies, Cashmere), felt the shock as it is generally 
felt at first, till use has made it more tolerable to the 
patient ; the Ladies began to suspect that they ought 
not to be pleased, and seemed to conclude that there 
must have been much good sense in what FADLADEEX 
said, from its having sent them all so soundly to sleep ; 
while the self-complacent Chamberlain was left to 
triumph in the idea of having, for the hundred and 
fiftieth time in his life, extinguished a Poet. LALLA 
EOOKH alone and Love knew why persisted in being 
delighted with all she had heard, and in resolving to hear 
more as speedily as possible. Her manner, however, of 
first returning to the subject was unlucky. It was while 
they rested during the heat of noon near a fountain, on 
which some hand had rudely traced those well-known 
words from the Garden of Sadi, " Many, like me, have 
viewed this fountain, but they are gone, and their eyes 
are closed forever ! " that she took occasion, from the 
melancholy beauty of this passage, to dwell upon the 
charms of poetry in general. "It is true," she said, "few 
poets can imitate that sublime bird, which flies always in 
the air, and never touches the earth : 188 it is only once 


in many ages a Genius appears, whose words, like those 
on the Written Mountain, last forever : 1M but still there 
are some, as delightful, perhaps, though not so wonder- 
ful, who, if not stars over our head, are at least flowers 
along our path, and whose sweetness of the moment we 
ought gratefully to inhale, without calling upon them for 
a brightness and a durability beyond their nature. In 
short," continued she, blushing, as if conscious of being 
caught in an oration, " it is quite cruel that a poet can- 
not wander through his regions of enchantment, without 
having a critic forever, like the old Man of the Sea, 
upon his back ! " 15S FADLADEEN, it was plain, took 
this last luckless allusion to himself, and would treasure 
it up in his mind as a whetstone for his next criticism. 
A sudden silence ensued; and the Princess, glancing a 
look at FERAMOKZ, saw plainly she must wait for a more 
courageous moment. 

But the glories of Nature, and her wild fragrant airs, 
playing freshly over the current of youthful spirits, will 
soon heal even deeper wounds than the dull Fadladeens 
of this world can inflict. In an evening or two after, 
they came to the small Valley of Gardens, which had 
been planted by order of the Emperor, for his favorite 
sister Rochinara, during their progress to Cashmere, 
some years before ; aud never was there a more spark- 
ling assemblage of sweets, since the Gulzar-e-Irem, or 
Kose-bower of Irem. Every precious flower was there 
to be found that poetry, or love, or religion has ever 
consecrated; from the dark hyacinth, to which Hafez 
compares his mistress's hair, 156 to the Cuimiltttri, by 
whose, rosy blossoms the heaven of Indra is scented. 157 
As they sat in the cool fragrance of this delicious spot, 
and LALLA KOOKII remarked that she could fancy it the 
abode of that Flower-loving Nymph whom they worship 


in the temples of Kathay, 158 or of one of those Peris, 
those beautiful creatures of the air, who live upon per- 
fumes, and to whom a place like this might make some 
amends for the Paradise they have lost, the young 
Poet, in whose eyes she appeared, while she spoke, to be 
one of the bright spiritual creatures she was describing, 
said hesitatingly that he remembered a Story of a Peri, 
which, if the Princess had no objection, he would ven- 
ture to relate. " It is," said he, with an appealing look 
to FADLADEEN, " in a lighter and humbler strain than 
the other ; " then, striking a few careless but melancholy 
chords on his kitar, he thus began : 


OXK morn a PERI at the gate 
Of Eden stood, disconsolate ; 
And as she listen'd to the Springs 

Of Life within, like music flowing, 
And caught the light upon her wings 

Through the half-open portal glowing, 
She wept to think her recreant race 
Should e'er have lost that glorious place I 

"How happy," exclaim'd this child of air, 
"Are the holy Spirits who wander there, 

'Mid flowers that never shall fade or fall ; 
Though mine are the gardens of earth and sea 
And the stars themselves have flowers for me. 

One blossom of Heaven outblooms them all 

"Though sunny the Lake of cool OASHMKHK, 
With its plane-tree Isle reflected clear, 159 

And sweetly the founts of that Valley fall; 
Though bright are the waters of SIXC-SU-IIA v, 
And the golden floods that thitherward stray, 18 * 
Yet oh, 'tis only the Blest can say 

How the waters of Heaven outshine them all 

"f}o, wing thy Might from star to star, 
From world to luminous world, as far 


As the universe spreads its flaming wall : 
Take all the pleasures of all the spheres, 
And multiply each through endless years, 

One minute of Heaven is worth them all ! " 

The glorious Angel, who was keeping 
The gates of Light, beheld her weeping ; 
And, as he nearer drew and listen'd 
To her sad song, a tear-drop glisten'd 
Within his eyelids, like the spray 

From Eden's fountain, when it lies 
On the blue flower, which Bramins say 

Blooms nowhere but in Paradise. 161 

"Nymph of a fair but erring line ! " 
Gently he said " One hope is thine. 
'Tis written in the Book of Fate, 

The Peri yet may be forgiven 
Who brings to this Eternal gate 

The Gift that is most dear to Heaven! 
Go, seek it, and redeem thy sin 
'Tis sweet to let the Pardon'd in." 

Rapidly as comets run 

To the embraces of the Sun ; 

Fleeter than the starry brands 

Flung at night from angel hands, 168 

At those dark and daring sprites 

Who would climb the empyreal heights, 

Down the blue vault the PERI flies, 

And, lighted earthward by a glance 
That just then broke from morning's eyes, 

Hung hovering o'er our world's expanse. 

But whither shall the Spirit go 

To find this gift for Heaven ? "I knovr 


The wealth," she cries, " of every urn, 

In which unnumber'd rubies burn, 

Beneath the pillars of CHILMIXAR ; m 

I know where the Isles of Perfume are, 

Many a fathom clown in the sea, 

To the south of sun-bright ARABY ; m 

I know, too, where the Genii hid 

The jewelFd cup of their King JAMSHID, m 

"With Life's elixir sparkling high 

But gifts like these are not for the sky. 

Where was there ever a gem that shone 

Like the steps of ALLA'S wonderful Throne ? 

And the Drops of Life oh ! what would they be 

In the boundless Deep of Eternity ? " 

While thus she mus'd, her pinions fann'd 
The air of that sweet Indian land, 
Whose air is balm ; whose ocean spreads 
O'er coral rocks, and amber beds : 1M 
Whose mountains, pregnant by the beam 
Of the warm sun, with diamonds teem ; 
Whose rivulets are like rich brides, 
Lovely, with gold beneath their tides ; 
Whose sandal groves and bowers of spice 
Might be a Peri's Paradise ! 
But crimson now her rivers ran 

With human blood the smell of death 
Came reeking from those spicy bowers, 
And man, the sacrifice of man, 

Mingled his taint with every breath 
Upwafted from the innocent flowers. 
Land of the Sun, what foot invades 
Thy Pagods and thy pillar' d shades "" 
Thy cavern shrines, and Idol stones, 
Thy Monarchs and their thousand Thrones ? 1M 


"Tis he of GAZNA 169 fierce in wrath 

He comes, and -INDIA'S diadems 
Lie scatter'd in his ruinous path. 

His bloodhounds he adorns with gems, 
Torn from the violated necks 

Of many a young and lov'd Sultana ; 17 
Maidens, within their pure Zenana, 
Priests in the very fane he slaughters. 
And chokes up with the glittering wrecks 

Of golden shrines the sacred waters ! 
Downward the PERI turns her gaze, 
And, through the war-field's bloody haze, 
Beholds a youthful warrior stand, 

Alone, beside his native river, 
The red blade broken in his hand, 
And the last arrow in his quiver. 
" Live," said the Conqueror, " live to share 
The trophies and the crowns I bear ! " 
Silent that youthful warrior stood 
Silent he pointed to the flood 
All crimson with his country's blood, 
Then sent his last remaining dart, 
For answer, to the Invader's heart. 

False flew the shaft, though pointed well ; 
The Tyrant liv'd, the Hero fell ! - 
Yet mark'd the PERI where he lay, 

And, when the rush of war was past, 
Swiftly descending on a ray 

Of morning light, she caught the last 
Last glorious drop his heart had shed, 
Before its free-born spirit fled ! 

"Be this," she cried, as she wing'd her flight, 
" My welcome gift at the Gates of Light. 


Though foul are the drops that oft distil 
On the field of warfare, blood like this, 
For Liberty shed, so holy is, 171 

It would not stain the purest rill, 

That sparkles among the Bowers of Bliss ! 

Oh, if there be, on this earthly sphere, 

A boon, an offering Heaven holds dear, 

'Tis the last libation Liberty draAvs 

From the heart that bleeds and breaks in her 
cause ! " 

" Sweet," said the Angel, as she gave 

The gift into his radiant hand, 
" Sweet is our welcome of the Brave 

Who die thus for their native Land 
But see alas ! the crystal bar 
Of Eden moves not holier far 
Than even this drop the boon must be, 
That opes the Gates of Heaven for thee ! " 

Her first fond hope of Eden blighted, 
Now among AFRIT'S lunar Mountains, 179 

Far to the South the PKKI lighted ; 
And sleek'd her plumage at the fountains 

Of that Egyptian tide whose birth 

Is hidden from the sons of earth 

Deep in those solitary woods, 

Win-re oft the Genii of the Floods 

Dance round the cradle of their Nile, 

Anil hail the new-born Giant's smile. 178 

Thewe over EGYPT'S palmy groves, 
Her grots, and sepulchres of Kings, 174 

The exil'd Spirit sighing roves; 

And now hangs listening to the doves 

In warm KOSKTTA'S vale 175 now loves 

108 LALLA ROOKfl. 

To watch the moonlight on the wings 
Of the white pelicans that break 
The azure calm of MCERIS' Lake. 176 
'Twas a fair scene a Land more bright 

Never did mortal eye behold ! 
Who could have thought, that saw this night, 

Those valleys and their fruits of gold, 
Basking in Heaven's serenest light ; 
Those groups of lovely date-trees bending 

Languidly their leaf-crown'd heads, 
Like youthful maids, when sleep descending 

Warns them to their silken beds ; m 
Those virgin lilies, all the night 

Bathing their beauties in the lake, 
That they may rise more fresh and bright, 

When their beloved Sun's awake ; 
Those ruin'd shrines and towers that seem 
The relics of a splendid dream ; 

Amid whose fairy loneliness 
Nought but the lapwing's cry is heard, 
Nought seen but (when the shadows, flitting 
Fast from the moon, unsheath its gleam) 
Some purple-Aving'd Sultana 178 sitting 

Upon a column, motionless 
And glittering like an Idol bird ! 
Who could have thought, that there, even there, 
Amid those scenes so still and fair, 
The Demon of the Plague hath cast 
From his hot wing a deadlier blast, 
More mortal far than ever came 
From the red Desert's sands of flame ! 
So quick, that every living thing 
Of human shape, touch'd by his wing, 
Like plants where the Simoom hath past, 
At once falls black and withering ! 


The sun went down on many a brow, 

Which, full of bloom and freshness then, 
Is rankling in the pest-house now, 

And ne'er will feel that sun again. 
And, oh ! to see the unburied heaps 
On which the lonely moonlight sleeps 
The very vultures turn away, 
And sicken at so foul a prey ! 
Only the fierce hyaena stalks m 
Throughout the city's desolate walks 18 
At midnight, and his carnage plies : 

Woe to the half-dead wretch, who meets 
The glaring of those large blue eyes m 

Amid the darkness of the streets ! 

" Poor race of men ! " said the pitying Spirit, 

"Dearly ye pay for your primal Fall 
Some flow'rets of Eden ye still inherit, 

But the trail of the Serpent is over them all ! n 
She wept the air grew pure and clear 

Around her, as the bright drops ran ; 
For there's a magic in each tear 

Such kindly Spirits weep for man ! 
Just then beneatli some orange trees, 
Whose fruit and blossoms in the breeze 
Were wantoning together, free, 
Like age at play with infancy 
Beneath that fresh and springing bower, 

Close by the Lake, she heard the moan 
Of one who, at this silent hour, 

Had thither stolen to die alone. 
One who in life, where'er he mov'd, 

Drew after him the hearts of many; 
Yet now, as though he ne'er were lov'd, 

Dies here unseen, unwept by any 1 


None to watch near him none to slake 

The fire that in his bosom lies, 
With even a sprinkle from that lake, 

Which shines so cool before his eyes. 
No voice, well known through many a day, 

To speak the last, the parting word, 
Which, when all other sounds decay, 

Is still like distant music heard ; 
That tender farewell on the shore 
Of this rude world, when all is o'er, 
Which cheers the spirit, ere its bark 
Puts off into the unknown Dark. 

Deserted youth ! one thought alone 

Shed joy around his soul in death 
That she, whom he for years had known, 
And lov'd, and might have call'd his own, 

Was safe from this foul midnight's breath, 
Safe in her father's princely halls, 
Where the cool airs from fountain falls, 
Freshly perfum'd by many a brand 
Of the sweet wood from INDIA'S land, 
Were pure as she whose brow they fann'd. 

But see who yonder comes by stealth, 182 

This melancholy bower to seek, 
Like a young envoy, sent by Health, 

With rosy gifts upon her cheek ? 
'Tis she far off, through moonlight dim, 

He knew his own betrothed bride, 
She, who would rather die with him, 

Than live to gain the world beside ! 
Her arms are round her lover now, 

His livid cheek to hers she presses, 
And dips, to bind his burning brow, 

In the cool lake her loosen'd tresses. 


Ah ! once, how little did he think 

An hour would come, when he should shrink 

With horror from that dear embrace, 

Those gentle arms, that were to him 
Holy as is the cradling place 

Of Eden's infant cherubim ! 
And now he yields now turns away, 
Shuddering as if the venom lay 
All in those proffer'd lips alone - 
Those lips that, then so fearless grown, 
Xever until that instant came 
Near his unask'd or without shame. 
" Oh ! let me only breathe the air, 

That blessed air, that's breath'd by thee, 
And, whether on its wings it bear 

Healing or death, 'tis sweet to me ! 
There drink my tears, while yet they fall 

Would that my bosom's blood were balm, 
And, well thou know'st, I'd shed it all, 

To give thy brow one minute's calm. 
Kay, turn not from me that dear face 

Am I not thine thy own lov'd bride 
The one, the chosen one, whose place 

In life or death is by thy side ? 
Think'st thou that she, whose only light, 

In this dim world, from thee hath shone, 
Could bear the long, the cheerless night, 

That must be hers when thoxi art gone ? 
That I can live, and let thee go, 
Who art my life itself ? No. no 
When th<> stem dies, the leaf that grew 
Out of its heart must perish too ! 
Then turn to me. my own love, turn, 
Before, like thee, I fade ;md burn ; 
Cling to these yet cool lips, and share 


The last pure life that lingers there ! " 
She fails she sinks as dies the lamp 
In charnel airs, or cavern-damp, 
So quickly do his baleful sighs 
Quench all the sweet light of her eyes. 
One struggle and his pain is past 

Her lover is no longer living ! 
One kiss the maiden gives, one last, 

Long kiss, which she expires in giving ! 

" Sleep," said the PERI, as softly she stole 
The farewell sigh of that vanishing soul, 
As true as e'er warm'd a woman's breast 
" Sleep on, in visions of odor rest, 
In balmier airs than ever yet stirr'd 
The enchanted pile of that lonely bird, 
Who sings at the last his own death-lay, 188 
And in music and perfume dies away / * 

Thus saying, from her lips she spread 

Unearthly breathings through the place, 
And shook her sparkling wreath, and shed 

Such lustre o'er each paly face, 
That like two lovely saints they seem'd, 

Upon the eve of doomsday taken 
From their dim graves, in odor sleeping; 
While that benevolent PEEI beam'd 
Like their good angel, calmly keeping 

Watch o'er them till their souls would waken. 

But morn is blushing in the sky ; 

Again the PERI soars above, 
Bearing to Heaven that precious sigh 

Of pure self-sacrificing love. 
High throbb'd her heart, .with hope elate, 

The Elysian palm she soon shall win, 


For the bright Spirit at the gate 

Smil'd as she gave that offering in ; 
And she already hears the trees 

Of Eden, with their crystal bells 
Ringing in that ambrosial breeze 

That from the throne of ALLA swells ; 
And she can see the starry bowls 

That lie around that lucid lake, 
Upon whose banks admitted Souls 

Their first sweet draught of glory take ! 1M 

But, ah ! even PERIS' hopes are vain 

Again the Fates forbade, again 

The immortal barrier clos'd " Not yet," 

The Angel said as, with regret, 

He shut from her that glimpse of glory 

"True was the maiden, and her story, 

Written in light o'er ALLA'S head, 

By seraph eyes shall long be read. 

But, PEKI, see the crystal bar 

Of Eden moves not holier far 

Than even this sigh the boon must be 

That opes the Gates of Heaven for thee." 

Now, upon SYRIA'S land of roses 186 
Softly the light of Eve reposes, 
And, like ft glory, the broad sun 
Hangs over sainted LKHANOX ; 
Whose hc;id in wintry grandeur towers, 

And whitens with eternal sleet, 
While summer, in a vale of flowers, 

Is sleeping rosy at his feet. 

To one, who look'd from upper air 
O'er all the enchanted regions there. 


How beauteous must have been the glow, 
The life, the sparkling from below ! 
Fair gardens, shining streams, with ranks 
Of golden melons on their banks, 
More golden where the sunlight falls ; 
Gay lizards, glittering on the walls 186 
Of ruin'd shrines, busy and bright 
As they were all alive with light ; 
And, yet more splendid, numerous flocks 
Of pigeons, settling on the rocks, 
With their rich restless wings, that gleam 
Variously in the crimson beam 
Of the warm West, as if inlaid 
With brilliants from the mine, or made 
Of tearless rainbows, such as span 
The unclouded skies of PERISTAN. 
And then the mingling sounds that come 
Of shepherd's ancient reed, 187 with hum 
Of the wild bees of PALESTINE, 188 

Banqueting through the flow'ry vales ; 
And, JORDAN, those sweet banks of thine, 

And woods, so full of nightingales. 189 

But nought can charm the luckless PERI ; 
Her soul is sad her wings are weary 
Joyless she sees the Sun look down 
On that great Temple, once his own, 190 
Whose lonely columns stand sublime, 

Flinging their shadows from on high, 
Like dials, which the wizard, Time, 

Had rais'd to count his ages by ! 

Yet haply there may lie conceal'd 

Beneath those Chambers of the Suii, 
Some amulet of gems anneal'd 


In upper fires, some tablet seal'd 
With the great name of SOLOMON-, 
Which, spell'd by her illumin'd eyes, 

May teach her where, beneath the moon, 

In earth or ocean, lies the boon, 

The charm, that can restore so soon 
An erring Spirit to the skies. 

Cheer'd by this hope she bends her thither; 

Still laughs the radiant eye of Heaven, 

Nor have the golden bowers of Even 
In the rich West begun to wither ; 
When, o'er the vale of BALBEC winging 

Slowly, she sees a child at play, 
Among the rosy wild flowers singing, 

As rosy and as wild as they ; 
Chasing, with eager hands and eyes, 
The beautiful blue damsel flies, 191 
That flutter'd round the jasmine stems, 
Like winged flowers or flying gems : 
And, near the boy, who tir'd with play 
Now nestling 'mid the roses lay, 
She saw a wearied man dismount 

From his hot steed, and on the brink 
Of a small imaret's rustic fount 19a 

Impatient fling him down to drink. 
Then swift his haggard brow he tnrn'd 

To the fair child, who fearless sat, 
Though never yet hath day -beam burn'd 

Upon a brow more fierce than that, 
Sullenly fieree a mixture dire, 
Like thunder-clouds, of gloom and fire ; 
In which tin 1 PKKI'S eye could read 
Dark tales of many a ruthless deed ; 
The ruin'd maid the shrine profan'd 


Oaths broken and the threshold stain'd 
With blood of guests ! there written, all, 
Black as the damning drops that fall 
From the denouncing Angel's pen, 
Ere Mercy weeps them out again. 

Yet tranquil now that man of crime 
(As if the balmy evening time 
Soften'd his spirit) look'd and lay, 
Watching the rosy infant's play : 
Though still, whene'er his eye by chance 
Fell on the boy's, its lurid glance 

Met that unclouded joyous gaze, 
As torches that have burnt all night 
Through some impure and godless rite, 

Encounter morning's glorious rays. 

But, hark ! the vesper call to prayer, 

As slow the orb of daylight sets, 
Is rising sweetly on the air, 

From SYRIA'S thousand minarets ! 
The boy has started from the bed 
Of flowers, where he had laid his head, 
And down upon the fragrant sod 

Kneels, 198 with his forehead to the south, 
Lisping the eternal name of God 

From Purity's own cherub mouth, 
And looking, while his hands and eyes 
Are lifted to the glowing skies, 
Like a stray babe of Paradise, 
Just lighted on that floAvery plain, 
And seeking for its home again. 
Oh ! 'twas a sight that Heaven that child 
A scene, which might have well beguil'd 


Even haughty EBLIS of a sigh 
For glories lost and peace gone by ! 

And how felt he, the wretched Man 

Reclining there while memory ran 

O'er many a year of guilt and strife, 

Flew o'er the dark flood of his life, 

Nor found one sunny resting-place, 

Nor brought him back one branch of grace I 

" There was a time," he said, in mild, 

Heart-humbled tones " thou blessed child ! 

When, young and haply pure as thou, 

I look'd and pray'd like thee ; but now " 

He hung his head each nobler aim, 

And hope, and feeling, which had slept 
From boyhood's hour, that instant came 

Fresh o'er him, and he wept lie wept ! 
Blest tears of soul-felt penitence ! 

In whose benign, redeeming flow 
Is felt the first, the only sense 

Of guiltless joy that guilt can know. 

" There's a drop," said the PERI, " that down from 

the moon 

Falls through the withering airs of June 
Upon EGYPT'S land, 194 of so healing a power, 
So balmy a virtue, that e'en in the hour 
The droj) descends, contagion dies, 
And health re-animates earth and skies ! 
Oh, is it not thus, thou man of sin, 

The precious tears of repentance fall ? 
Though foul thy fiery plagues within, 

One. heavenly drop hath dispell'd them all 1" 

And now behold him kneeling there 
By the child's side, in humble prayer, 


While the same sunbeam shines upon 
The guilty and the guiltless one, 
And hymns of joy proclaim through Heaven 
The triumph of a Soul Forgiven ! 
'Twas when the golden orb had set, 
While on their knees they linger'd yet, 
There fell a light more lovely far 
Than ever came from sun or star, 
Upon the tear that, warm and meek, 
Dew'd that repentant sinner's cheek. 
To mortal eye this light might seem 
A northern flash or meteor beam 
But well the enraptur'd PERI knew 
'Twas a bright smile the Angel threw 
From Heaven's gate, to hail that tear 
Her harbinger of glory near ! 

" Joy, joy forever ! my task is done 
The Gates are pass'd, and Heaven is won ! 
Oh ! am I not happy ? I am, I am 

To thee, sweet Eden ! how dark and sad 
Are the diamond turrets of SnADUKiAM, 196 

And the fragrant bowers of AMBERABAD ! 
Farewell, ye odors of Earth, that die 
Passing away like a lover's sigh ; 
My feast is now of the Tooba Tree, 196 
Whose scent is the breath of Eternity ! 
Farewell, ye vanishing flowers, that shone 

In my fairy wreath, so bright and brief ; 
Oh ! what are the brightest that e'er have blown, 
To the lote-tree, springing by ALLA'S throne, 197 

Whose flowers have a soul in every leaf ! 
Joy, joy forever! my task is done 
The Gates are pass'd, and Heaven is won ! " 


" AXD this," said the Great Chamberlain, " is poetry ! this 
flimsy manufacture of the brain, which, in comparison 
with the lofty and durable monuments of genius, is as 
the gold filigree-work of Zamara beside the eternal arch- 
itecture of Egypt ! " After this gorgeous sentence, 
which, with a few more of the same kind, FADLADEKN 
kept by him for rare and important occasions, he pro- 
ceeded to the anatomy of the short poem just recited. 
The lax and easy kind of metre in which it was written 
ought to be denounced, he said, as one of the leading 
causes of the alarming growth of poetry in our times. 
If some check were not given to this lawless facility, we 
should soon be overrun by a race of bards as numerous 
and as shallow as the hundred and twenty thousand 
Streams of Basra. 198 They who succeeded in this style 
deserved chastisement for their very success ; as war- 
riors have been punished, even after gaining a victory, 
because they had taken the liberty of gaining it in an 
irregular or unestablished manner. What, then, was to 
be said to those who failed ? to those who presumed, as 
in the present lamentable instance, to imitate the license 
and ease of the bolder sons of song, without any of that 
grace or vigor which gave a dignity even to negligence; 
who, like them, flung the jereed 199 carelessly, but not, 
like them, to the mark ; " and who," said he, raising 
his voice, to excite a proper degree of wakefulness in his 
hearers, "contrive to appear heavy and constrained in 
the midst of all the latitude they allow themselves, like 
one of those young pagans that dance Iw-fore the 1'rin- 
cess, who is ingenious enough to move as it' her limbs 
wore fettered, in a pair of the lightest and loosest 
drawers of Mosul ipnt am !" 


It was but little suitable, he continued, to the grave 
march of criticism to follow this fantastical Peri, of 
whom they had just heard, through all her flights and 
adventures between earth and heaven ; but he could not 
help adverting to the puerile conceitedness of the Three 
Gifts which she is supposed to carry to the skies, a 
drop of blood, forsooth, a sigh, and a tear ! How the 
first of these articles was delivered into the Angel's 
"radiant hand" he professed himself at a loss to dis- 
cover ; and as to the safe carriage of the sigh and the 
tear, such Peris and such poets were beings by far too 
incomprehensible for him even to guess how they man- 
aged such matters. " But, in short," said he, " it is a 
waste of time and patience to dwell longer upon a thing 
so incurably frivolous, puny even among its own puny 
race, and such as only the Banyan Hospital 20 for Sick 
Insects should undertake." 

In vain did LALLA ROOKH try to soften this inexor- 
able critic ; in vain did she resort to her most eloquent 
common-places, reminding him that poets were a timid 
and sensitive race, whose sweetness was not to be drawn 
forth, like that of the fragrant grass near the Ganges, by 
crushing and trampling upon them; 201 that severity 
often extinguished every chance of the perfection which 
it demanded ; and that, after all, perfection was like the 
Mountain of the Talisman, no one had ever yet 
reached its summit. 202 Neither these gentle axioms, nor 
the still gentler looks with which they were inculcated, 
could lower for one instant the elevation of FADLADEEN'S 
eyebrows, or charm him into anything like encourage- 
ment, or even toleration of her poet. Toleration, indeed, 
was not among the weaknesses of FADLADEEN : he 
carried the same spirit into matters of poetry and of 
religion, and, though little versed in the beauties or sub- 


limities of either, was a perfect master of the art of 
persecution in both. His zeal was the same, too, in 
either pursuit; whether the game before him was 
pagans or poetasters, worshippers of cows, or writers 
of epics. 

They had now arrived at the splendid city of Lahore, 
whose mausoleums and shrines, magnificent and number- 
less, where Death appeared to share equal honors with 
Heaven, would have powerfully affected the heart and 
imagination of LALLA ROOKH, if feelings more of this 
earth had not taken entire possession of her already. 
She was here met by messengers, despatched from Cash- 
mere, who informed her that the King had arrived in the 
Valley, and was himself superintending the sumptuous 
preparations that were then making in the Saloons of the 
Shalimar for her reception. The chill she felt on re- 
ceiving this intelligence, which to a bride whose heart 
was free and light would have brought only images of 
affection and pleasure, convinced her that her peace 
was gone forever, and that she was in love, irretrievably 
in love, with young FEHAMOKZ. The veil had fallen off 
in which this passion at first disguises itself, and to know 
that she loved was now as painful as to love irithout 
knowing it had been delicious. FKRAMORZ, too, what 
misery would be his, if the sweet hours of intercourse so 
imprudently allowed them should have stolen into his 
heart the same fatal fascination as into hers; if, not- 
withstanding her rank, and the modest homage he 
always paid to it, even he should have yielded to the 
Influence of those long and happy intet views, where 
music, poetry, the delightful scenes of nature, all had 
tended to bring their hearts close together, anil to waken 
by every means that too ready passion, which often, like 
the young of the desert-bird, is warmed into life by tho 


eyes alone ! 208 She saw but one way to preserve herself 
from being culpable as well as unhappy, and this, how- 
ever painful, she was resolved to adopt. FERAMORZ 
must no more be admitted to her presence. To have 
strayed so far into the dangerous labyrinth was wrong, 
but to linger in it, while the clew was yet in her hand, 
would be criminal. Though the heart she had to offer 
to the King of Bucharia might be cold and broken, it 
should at least be pure ; and she must only endeavor to 
forget the short dream of happiness she had enjoyed, 
like that Arabian shepherd, who, in wandering into the 
wilderness, caught a glimpse of the Gardens of Irem, 
and then lost them again forever ! 204 

The arrival of the young Bride at Lahore was cele- 
brated in the most enthusiastic manner. The Rajas and 
Omras in her train, who had kept at a certain distance 
during the journey, and never encamped nearer to the 
Princess than was strictly necessary for her safeguard, 
here rode in splendid cavalcade through the city, and 
distributed the most costly presents to the crowd. En- 
gines were erected in all the squares, which cast forth 
showers of confectionery among the people ; while the 
artisans, in chariots 205 adorned with tinsel and flying 
streamers, exhibited the badges of their respective trades 
through the streets. Such brilliant displays of life and 
pageantry among the palaces, and domes, and gilded 
minarets of Lahore, made the city altogether like a 
place of enchantment; particularly on the day when 
LALLA ROOKH set out again upon her journey, when she 
was accompanied to the gate by all the fairest and richest 
of the nobility, and rode along between ranks of beauti- 
ful boys and girls, who kept waving over their heads 
plates of gold and silver flowers, 206 and then threw them 
around to be gathered by the populace. 


For many days after their departure from Lahore, a 
considerable degree of gloom hung over the whole party. 
LALLA ROOKII, who had intended to make illness her 
excuse for not admitting the young minstrel, as usual, to 
the pavilion, soon found that to feign indisposition was 
unnecessary; FADLADEEN felt the loss of the good 
road they had hitherto travelled, and was very near curs- 
ing Jehan-Guire (of blessed memory !) for not having 
continued his delectable alley of trees, 207 at least as far 
as the mountains of Cashmere ; while the Ladies, who 
had nothing now to do all day but to be fanned by peacocks' 
feathers and listen to FADLADEEN, seemed heartily weary 
of the life they led, and, in spite of all the Great Cham- 
berlain's criticisms, were so tasteless as to wish for the 
poet again. One evening, as they were proceeding to 
their place of rest for the night, the Princess, who, for 
the freer enjoyment of the air, had mounted her favorite 
Arabian palfrey, in passing by a small grove, heard the 
notes of a lute from within its leaves, and a voice, which 
she but too well knew, singing the following words : 

TELL me not of joys above, 

If that world can give no bliss, 
Truer, happier than the Love 

Which enslaves our souls in this. 

Tell me not of Houris' eyes ; 
Far from me their dangerous glow, 

If those looks that light the skies 
Wound like some that burn below. 

Who, that fools what Love is here, 
All its falsehood all its pain 

Would, for even Elysium's sphere, 
Risk tho fatal dream attain '.' 


Who, that midst a desert's heat 
Sees the waters fade away, 

Would not rather die than meet 
Streams again as false as they ? 

The tone of melancholy defiance in which these words 
were uttered, went to LALLA ROOKH'S heart ; and, as 
she reluctantly rode on, she could not help feeling it to 
be a sad but still sweet certainty, that FERAMORZ was to 
the full as enamoured and miserable as herself. 

The place where they encamped that evening was the 
first delightful spot they had come to since they left 
Lahore. On each side of them was a grove full of small 
Hindoo temples, and planted with the most graceful 
trees of the East ; where the tamarind, the cassia, and 
the silken plantains of Ceylon were mingled in rich con- 
trast with the high fan-like foliage of the Palmyra, 
that favorite tree of the luxurious bird that lights up 
the chambers of its nest with fire-flies. 208 In the middle 
of the lawn w r here the pavilion stood there was a tank 
surrounded by small mango-trees, on the clear cold 
waters of which floated multitudes of the beautiful red 
lotus ; 209 while at a distance stood the ruins of a strange 
and awful-looking tower, which seemed old enough to 
have been the temple of some religion no longer known, 
and which spoke the voice of desolation in the midst of 
all that bloom and loveliness. This singular ruin excited 
the wonder and conjectures of all. LALLA EOOKH 
guessed in vain, and the all-pretending FADLADEEN, who 
had never till this journey been beyond the precincts of 
Delhi, was proceeding most learnedly to show that he 
knew nothing whatever about the matter, when one of 
the Ladies suggested that perhaps FERAMORZ could 


satisfy their curiosity. They were now approaching his 
native mountains, and this tower might perhaps be a 
relic of some of those dark superstitions which had pre- 
vailed in that country before the light of Islam dawned 
upon it. The Chamberlain, who usually preferred his 
own ignorance to the best knowledge that any one else 
could give him, was by no means pleased with this 
officious reference ; and the Princess, too, was about to 
interpose a faint word of objection, but, before either of 
them could speak, a slave was despatched for FERAMOHZ, 
who, in a very few minutes, made his appearance before 
them looking so pale and unhappy in LALLA ROOKII'S 
eyes, that she repented already of her cruelty in having 
so long excluded him. 

That venerable tower, he told them, was the remains 
of an ancient Fire-temple, built by those Ghebers or 
Persians of the old religion, who, many hundred years 
since, had fled hither from their Arab conquerors, 210 pre- 
ferring lilM?rty and their altars in a foreign land to the 
alternative of apostasy or persecution in their own. It 
was impossible, he added, not to feel interested in the 
many glorious but unsuccessful struggles which had been 
made by these original natives of Persia to cast off the 
yoke of their bigoted conquerors. Like their own Fire 
in the Burning Field at Bakou, 211 when suppressed in 
one place, they had but broken out with fresh flame in 
another ; and, as a native of Cashmere, of that fair and 
Holy Valley which had in the same manner become the 
prey of strangers, 81 * and seen her ancient shrines and 
native princes swept away before the inarch of her intol- 
erant invaders, he felt a sympathy, he owned, with the 
sufferings of the persecuted (Jhebers, which every monu- 
ment like this before them but tended more powerfully 
to awaken. 


It was the first time that FERAMORZ had ever ven- 
tured upon so much prose before FADLADEEN, and it may 
easily be conceived what effect such prose as this must 
have produced upon that most orthodox and most pagan- 
hating personage. He sat for some minutes aghast, 
ejaculating only at intervals, "Bigoted conquerors! 
sympathy with Fire-worshippers ! " 213 while FERAMORE, 
happy to take advantage of this almost speechless horror 
of the Chamberlain, proceeded to say that he knew a 
melancholy story, connected with the events of one of 
those struggles of the brave Fire-worshippers against 
their Arab masters, which, if the evening was not too 
far advanced, he should have much pleasure in being 
allowed to relate to the Princess. It was impossible foi 
LALLA ROOKH to refuse ; he had never before looked 
half so animated ; and when he spoke of the Holy Val- 
ley, his eyes had sparkled, she thought, like the talis- 
manic characters on the scimitar of Solomon. Her 
consent was therefore most readily granted ; and while 
FADLADEEN sat in unspeakable dismay, expecting trea- 
son and abomination in every line, the poet thus began 
his story of the Fire-worshippers : 


'Tis moonlight over OMAN'S SEA ; 2U 

Her banks of pearl and balmy isles 
Bask in the night-beam beauteously, 

And her blue waters sleep in smiles. 
'Tis moonlight in HARMOZIA'S 216 walls, 
And through her EM IK'S porphyry halls, 
Where, some hours since, was heard the swell 
Of trumpet and the clash of zel, 218 
Bidding the bright-eyed sun farewell ; 
The peaceful sun, whom better suits 

The music of the bulbul's nest, 
Or the light touch of lovers' lutes, 

To sing him to his golden rest. 
All hush'd there's not a breeze in motion; 
The shore is silent as the ocean. 
If zephyrs come, so light they come, 

Nor leaf is stirr'd nor wave is driven; 
The wind-tower on the KM i it's dome 217 

Can hardly win a breath from heaven. 

Even he, that tyrant Arab, sleeps 
Culm, while a nation round him weeps; 
\Vhiie curses load the air lie breathes, 
And falchions from unnuinber'd sheaths 
Are starting to avenge the shame 
His rare h;>th brought on IRAN'S IH name. 
Hard, heartless Chief, unmov'd alike 
'Mill eyes that weep, and swords that strike ;- 


One of that saintly, murderous brood, 

To carnage and the Koran given, 
Who think through unbeliever's blood 

Lies their directest path to heaven ; 
One, who will pause and kneel unshod 

In the warm blood his hand hath pour'd, 
To mutter o'er some text of God 

Engraven on his reeking sword ; 219 
Nay, who can coolly note the line, 
The letter of those words divine, 
To which his blade, with searching art, 
Had sunk into its victim's heart ! 

Just ALLA ! what must be thy look, 

When such a wretch before thee stands 
Unblushing, with thy Sacred Book, 

Turning the leaves with blood-stain'd hands, 
And wresting from its page sublime 
His creed of lust, and hate, and crime ; 
Even as those bees of TREBIZOND, 

Which, from the sunniest flowers that glad 
With their pure smile the gardens round, 

Draw venom forth that drives men mad. 220 

Never did fierce ARABIA send 

A satrap forth more direly great ; 
Never was IRAX doom'd to bend 

Beneath a yoke of deadlier weight. 
Her throne had fallen her pride was crush'd 
Her sons were willing slaves, nor blush'd, 
In their own land, no more their own, 
To crouch beneath a stranger's throne. 
Her towers, where MITHRA once had burn'd, 
To Moslem shrines oh shame ! were turn'd, 
Where slaves, converted by the sword, 


Their mean, apostate worship pour'd, 

And curs'd the faith their sires ador'd. 

Yet has she hearts, 'mid all this ill, 

O'er all this wreck high, buoyant still 

With hope and vengeance ; hearts that yet 

Like gems, in darkness, issuing rays 
They've treasur'd from the sun that's set, 

Beam all the light of long-lost days ! 
And swords she hath, nor weak nor slow 

To second all such hearts can dare ; 
As he shall know, well, dearly know, 

Who sleeps in moonlight luxury there, 
Tranquil as if his spirit lay 
Becalm'd in Heaven's approving ray. 
Sleep on for purer eyes than thine 
Those waves are hush'd, those planets shine ; 
Sleep on, and be thy rest unmov'd 

By the white moonbeam's dazzling power ; 
None but the loving and the lov'd 

Should be awake at this sweet hour. 

And see where, high above those rocks 
That o'er the deep their shadows fling, 

Yon turret stands ; where ebon locks, 
As glossy as a heron's wing 
Upon the turban of a king, 221 

Hang from the lattice, long and wild 

'Tis she, that EMIR'S blooming child, 

All truth and tenderness and grace, 

Though born of such ungentle r;u-e ; 

An image of Youth's radiant Fountain 

Springing in a desolate mountain ! 2M 

Oh what a pure and sacred thing 
la beauty, curtain'd from the sijjht 


Of the gross world, illumining 
One only mansion with, her light ! 

Unseen by man's disturbing eye, 

The flower that blooms beneath the sea, 

Too deep for sunbeams, doth not lie 
Hid in more chaste obscurity. 

So, HINDA, have thy face and mind, 

Like holy mysteries, lain enshrin'd. 

And oh, what transport for a lover 
To lift the veil that shades them o'er ! 

Like those who, all at once, discover 
In the lone deep some fairy shore, 
Where mortal never trod before, 

And sleep and wake in scented airs 

No lip had ever breath'd but theirs. 

Beautiful are the maids that glide, 

On summer-eves, through YEMEN'S 228 dales, 
And bright the glancing looks they hide 

Behind their litters' roseate veils ; 
And brides, as delicate and fair 
As the white jasmine flowers they wear, 
Hath YEMEN in her blissful clime, 

Who, lull'd in cool kiosk or bower, 224 
Before their mirrors count the time, 226 

And grow still lovelier every hour. 
But never yet hath bride or maid 

In ARABY'S gay Haram smil'd, 
Whose boasted brightness would not fade 

Before AL HASSAN'S blooming child. 

Light as the angel shapes that bless 
An infant's dream, yet not the less 
Rich in all woman's loveliness ; 
With eyes so pure, that from their ray 


Dark Vice would turn abash'd away, 
Blinded like serpents, when they gaze 
Upon the emerald's virgin blaze ; 226 
Yet fill'd with all youth's sweet desires, 
Mingling the meek and vestal fires 
Of other worlds with all the bliss, 
The fond, weak tenderness of this : 
A soul, too, more than half divine, 

Where, through some shades of earthly feeling, 
Religion's soften'd glories shine, 

Like light through summer foliage stealing, 
Shedding a glow of such mild hue, 
So warm, and yet so shadowy too, 
As makes the very darkness there 
More beautiful than light elsewhere. 

Such is the maid who, at this hour, 

Hath risen from her restless sleep, 
And sits alone in that high bower, 

Watching the still and shining deep. 
Ah ! 'twas not thus, with tearful eyes 

And beating heart, she used to gaze 
On the magnificent earth and skies, 

In her own land, in happier days. 
Why looks she now so anxious down 
Among those rocks, whose rugged frown 

Blackens the mirror of the deep? 
Whom waits she all this lonely night? 

Too rough the rocks, too bold the steep, 
For man to scale that turret's height ! 

So deenfd at least her thoughtful sire, 
When high, to catch the cool night-air, 

After the day-beam's withering fire, 227 
He built her bower of freshness there, 


And had it deck'd with costliest skill, 

And fondly thought it safe as fair : 
Think, reverend dreamer ! think so still, 

Nor wake to learn what Love can dare ; 
Love, all-defying Love, who sees 
No charm in trophies won with ease ; 
Whose rarest, dearest fruits of bliss 
Are pluck' d on Danger's precipice ! 
Bolder than they who dare not dive 

For pearls, but when the sea's at rest, 
Love, in the tempest most alive, 

Hath ever held that pearl the best 
He finds beneath the stormiest water. 
Yes ARABY'S unrivall'd daughter, 
Though high that tower, that rock-way rude, 

There's one who, but to kiss thy cheek, 
Would climb the untrodden solitude 

Of ARARAT'S tremendous peak, 228 
And think its steeps, though dark and dread, 
Heaven's pathways, if to thee they led ! 
Even now thou seest the flashing spray, 
That lights his oar's impatient way ; 
Even now thou hear'st the sudden shock 
Of his swift bark against the rock, 
And stretchest down thy arms of snow, 
As if to lift him from below ! 
Like her to whom, at dead of night, 
The bridegroom, with his locks of light, 229 ' 
Came, in the flush of love and pride, 
And scal'd the terrace of his bride ; 
When, as she saw him rashly spring, 
And midway up in danger cling, 
She flung him down her long black hair, 
Exclaiming, breathless, u There, love, there ! " 
And scarce did manlier nerve uphold 


The hero ZAL in that fond hour, 
Than wings the youth who, fleet and bold, 

Now climbs the rocks to HINUA'S bower. 
See light as up their granite steeps 

The rock-goats of ARABIA clamber, 280 
Fearless from crag to crag he leaps, 

And now is in the maiden's chamber 

She loves but knows not whom she loves. 

Nor what his race, nor whence he came ; 
Like one who meets, in Indian groves, 

Some beauteous bird without a name, 
Brought by the last ambrosial breeze, 
From isles in the undiscover'd seas, 
To show his plumage for a day 
To wondering eyes, and wing away ! 
Will he thus fly her nameless lover ? 

ALLA forbid ! 'twas by a moon 
As fair as this, while singing over 

Some ditty to her soft Kanoon, 281 
Alone, at this same witching hour, 

She first beheld his radiant eyes 
Gleam through the lattice of the bower, 

Where nightly now they mix their sighs ; 
And thought some spirit of the air 
(For what could waft a mortal there ?) 
Was pausing on his moonlit way 
To listen to her lonely lay ! 
This fancy ne'er hath left her mind: 

And though, when terror's swoon had past, 
She saw a youth, of mortal kind, 

Before her in obeisance cast, 
Yet often since, when he hath spoken 
Strange, awful words, and gleams have broker, 
From his dark eyes, too bright to bear, 


Oh ! she hath fear'd her soul was given 
To some unhallow'd child of air, 

Some erring Spirit cast from heaven, 
Like those angelic youths of old, 
Who burn'd for maids of mortal mould, 
Bewilder'd left the glorious skies, 
And lost their heaven for woman's eyes. 
Fond girl ! nor fiend nor angel he 
Who woos thy young simplicity ; 
But one of earth's impassion'd sons, 

As warm in love, as fierce in ire, 
As the best heart whose current runs 

Full of the Day-God's living fire. 
But quench'd to-night that ardor seems, 

And pale his cheek, and sunk his brow ; 
Never before, but in her dreams, 

Had she beheld him pale as now : 
And those were dreams of troubled sleep, 
From which 'twas joy to wake and weep ; 
Visions, that will not be forgot, 

But sadden every waking scene, 
Like warning ghosts, that leave the spot 

All wither'd where they once have been. 

" How sweetly," said the trembling maid, 

Of her own gentle voice afraid, 

So long had they in silence stood, 

Looking upon that tranquil flood 

" How sweetly does the moonbeam smile 

To-night upon yon leafy isle ! 

Oft, in my fancy's wanderings, 

I've wish'd that little isle had wings, 

And we, within Us fairy bowers, 

Were wafted off to seas unknown 
Where not a pulse should beat but ours, 


And we might live, love, die alone ! 
Far from the cruel and the cold, 

Where the bright eyes of angels only 
Should come around us, to behold 

A paradise so pure and lonely. 
Would this be world enough for thee ? " 
Playful she turn'd, that he might see 

The passing smile her cheek put on ; 
But when she mark'd how mournfully 

His eyes met hers, that smile was gone ; 
And, bursting into heartfelt tears, 
" Yes, yes," she cried, " my hourly fears, 
My dreams have boded all too right 
We part forever part to-night ! 
I knew, I knew it could not last 
'Twas bright, 'twas heavenly, but 'tis past I 
Oh ! ever thus, from childhood's hour, 

I've seen my fondest hopes decay ; 
I never lov'd a tree or flower, 

But 'twas the first to fade away. 
I never nurs'd a dear gazelle, 

To glad me with its soft black eye, 
But when it came to know me well, 

And love me, it was sure to die ! 
Now too the joy most like divine 

Of all I ever dreamt or knew, 
To see thee, hear thee, call thee mine, 

Oh misery ! must T lose that too ? 
Yet go on peril's brink we meet; 

Those frightful rocks that treacherous sea 
No, never come again though sweet, 

Though heaven, it may be death to thee. 
Farewell and blessings on thy way, 

Where'er thou guest, beloved stranger! 
Better to sit and watch that ray, 


And think thee safe, though far away, 
Than have thee near me, and in danger ! " 

" Danger ! oh, tempt me not to boast " 
The youth exclam'd " thou little know'st 
What he can brave, who, born and nurst 
In Danger's paths, has dar'd her worst ; 
Upon whose ear the signal word 

Of strife and death is hourly breaking ; 
Who sleeps with head upon the sword 

His fever'd hand must grasp in waking. 
Danger ! " 

" Say on thou fear'st not then, 
And we may meet oft meet again ? " 


" Oh ! look not so beneath the skies 
I now fear nothing but those eyes. 
If aught on earth could charm or force 
My spirit from its destin'd course, 
If aught could make this soul forget 
The bond to which its seal is set, 
'Twould be those eyes ; they, only they, 
Could melt that sacred seal away ! 
But no 'tis fix'd my awful doom 
Is fix'd on this side of the tomb 
We meet no more ; why, why did Heaven 
Mingle two souls that earth has riven, 
Has rent asunder wide as ours ? 
Arab maid, as soon the Powers 
Of Light and Darkness may combine, 
As I be link'd with thee or thine ! 
Thy Father - 

" Holy ALLA save 

His gray head from that lightning glance ! 
Thou know'st him not he loves the brave ; 


Nor lives there under heaven's expanse 
One who would prize, would worship thee 
And thy bold spirit, more than he. 
Oft when, iii childhood, I have play'd 

With the bright falchion by his side, 
I've heard him swear his lisping maid 

In time should be a warrior's bride. 
And still, whene'er at Haram hours 
I take him cool sherbets and flowers, 
He tells me, when in playful mood, 

A hero shall my bridegroom be, 
Since maids are best in battle woo'd, 

And won with shouts of victory ! 
Nay, turn not from me thou alone 
Art form'd to make both hearts thy own. 
Go join his sacred ranks thou know'st 

The unholy strife these Persians wage: 
Good Heaven, that frown! even now thou glow'st 

With more than mortal warrior's rage. 
Haste to the camp by morning's light, 
And when that sword is rais'd in tight, 
Oh still remember, Love and I 
Beneath its shadow trembling lie ! 
One victory o'er those Slaves of Fire, 
Those impious Ghebers, whom my sire 

Abhors " 

"Hold, hold thy words are death" 

The stranger cried, as wild he flung 
His m;i 11 tli- bark, and show'd beneath 

The Ghrber belt that round him clung 282 
"Hen-, maiden, look weep blush to see 
All that thy sire abhors in me ! 
Yes / am of that impious race, 

Those Slaves of Fire, who, morn and even, 
Hail their Creator's dwelling-place 


Among the living lights of heaven : 288 
Yes /am of that outcast few, 
To IRAN and to vengeance true, 
Who curse the hour your Arabs came 
To desolate our shrines of flame, 
And swear, before God's burning eye, 
To break our country's chains, or die ! 
Thy bigot sire, nay, tremble not, 

He, who gave birth to those dear eyes, 
With me is sacred as the spot 

From which our fires of worship rise ! 
But know 'twas he I sought that night, 

When, from my watch-boat on the sea, 
I caught this turret's glimmering light, 

And up the rude rocks desperately 
Rush'd to my prey thou know'st the rest 
I climb'd the gory vulture's nest, 
And found a trembling dove within ; 
Thine, thine the victory thine the sin 
If Love hath made one thought his own, 
That Vengeance claims first last alone ! 
Oh ! had we, never, never met, 
Or could this heart e'en now forget 
How link'd, how bless'd we might have been, 
Had fate not frown'd so dark between ! 
Hadst thou been born a Persian maid, 
In neighboring valleys had we dwelt, 
Through the same fields in childhood play'd, 

At the same kindling altar knelt, 
Then, then, while all those nameless ties, 
In which the charm of Country lies, 
Had round our hearts been hourly spun, 
Till IRAN'S cause and thine were one ; 
While in thy lute's awakening sigh 
T ^ieard the voice of days gone by, 


And saw, in every smile of thine, 
Returning hours of glory shine ; 
While the wrong'd Spirit of our Land 

Liv'd, look'd, and spoke her wrongs through thee, 
God ! who could then this sword withstand ? 

Its very flash were victory ! 
But now estrang'd, divorc'd forever, 
Far as the grasp of Fate can sever ; 
Our only ties what love has wove, 

In faith, friends, country, sunder'd wide ; 
And then, then only, true to love, 

When false to all that's dear beside ! 
Thy father, IRAN'S deadliest foe 
Thyself perhaps, even now but no 
Hate never look'd so lovely yet ! 

No sacred to thy soul will be 
The land of him who could forget 

All but that bleeding land for thee. 
When other eyes shall see, unmov'd, 

Her widows mourn, her warriors fall, 
Thou'lt think how well one Gheber lov'd, 

And for his sake thou'lt weep for all ! 
But look - 

With sudden start he turn'd 

And pointed to the distant wave, 
Where lights, like charnel meteors, burn'd 

Blucly, as o'er some seaman's grave ; 
And fiery darts, at intervals, 284 

Flew up all sparkling from the main, 
As if each star that nightly falls 

Were shooting back to heaven again. 
" My signal lights ! I must away 
Both, both are ruin'd. if I stay. 
Farewell sweet life! thou cling'st in vain 
Now, Vengeance, I am thine again ! " 


Fiercely he broke away, nor stopp'd, 

Nor look'd but from the lattice dropp'd 

Down 'mid the pointed crags beneath, 

As if he fled from love to death. 

While pale and mute young HINDA stood; 

Nor mov'd, till in the silent flood 

A momentary plunge below 

Startled her from her trance of woe ; 

Shrieking she to the lattice flew, 

" I come I come if in that tide 
Thou sleep'st to-night, I'll sleep there too, 

In death's cold wedlock, by thy side. 
Oh ! I would ask no happier bed 

Than the chill wave my love lies under : 
Sweeter to rest together dead, 

Far sweeter, than to live asunder ! " 
But no their hour is not yet come 

Again she sees his pinnace fly, 
Wafting him fleetly to his home, 

Where'er that ill-starr'd home may lie ; 
And calm and smooth it seem'd to win 

Its moonlit way before the wind, 
As if it bore all peace within, 

Nor left one breaking heart behind f 


THE Princess, whose heart was sad enough already, could 
have wished that FERAMORZ had chosen a less melan- 
choly story ; as it is only to the happy that tears are a 
luxury. Her ladies, however, were by no means sorry 
that love was once more the Poet's theme ; for, whenever 
he spoke of love, they said, his voice was as sweet as if 
he had chewed the leaves of that enchanted tree which 
grows over the tomb of the musician, Tan-Seiu. 235 

Their road all the morning had lain througn a very 
dreary country ; through valleys, covered with a low 
bushy jungle, where, in more than one place, the awful 
signal of the bamboo staff, 230 with the white flag at its 
top, reminded the traveller that, in that very spot, the 
tiger had made some human creature his victim. It was, 
therefore, with much pleasure that they arrived at sun- 
set in a safe and lovely glen, and encamped under one of 
those holy trees whose smooth columns and spreading 
roofs seem to destine them for natural temples of relig- 
ion. Beneath this spacious shade, some pious hands had 
erected a row of pillars ornamented with the most beau- 
tiful porcelain, 8 * 1 which now supplied the use of mirrors 
to the young maidens, as they adjusted their hair in de- 
scending from the palankeens. Here, while, as usual, 
the Princess sat listening anxiously, with FAIU.ADKKX in 
one of his loftiest moods of criticism by her side, the 
young Poet, leaning against a branch of the tree, thus 
continued hia story : 


THE morn hath risen clear and calm, 

And o'er the Green Sea 288 palely shines, 
Revealing BAHREIN'S 289 groves of palm, 

And lighting KISHMA'S 239 amber vines. 
Fresh smell the shores of ABABY, 
While breezes from the Indian sea 
Blow round SELAMA'S 24 sainted cape, 

And curl the shining flood beneath, 
Whose waves are rich with many a grape, 

And cocoa-nut and flowery wreath, 
Which pious seamen, as they pass'd, 
Had tow'rd that holy headland cast 
Oblations to the Genii there 
For gentle skies and breezes fair ! 
The nightingale now bends her flight 241 
From the high trees, where all the night 

She sung so sweet, with none to listen ; 
And hides her from the morning star 

Where thickets of pomegranate glisten 
In the clear dawn, bespangled o'er 

With dew, whose night drops would not stain 
The best and brightest scimitar 242 
That ever youthful Sultan wore 

On the first morning of his reign. 

And see the Sun himself ! on wings 
Of glory up the East he springs. 
Angel of Light ! who from the time 
Those heavens began their march sublime, 
Hath first of all the starry choir 
Trod in his Maker's steps of fire \ 


Where are the days, thou wondrous sphere, 
When IRAX, like a sun-flower, turn'd 
To meet that eye where'er it burn'd ? 

When, from the banks of BENDEMEER 
To the nut-groves of SAMARCAND, 
Thy temples flam'd o'er all the land ? 
Where are they ? ask the shades of them 

Who, on CADESSIA'S 248 bloody plains, 
Saw fierce invaders pluck the gem 
From IRAN'S broken diadem, 

And bind her ancient faith in chains : 
Ask the poor exile, cast alone 
On foreign shores, unlov'd, unknown, 
Beyond the Caspian's Iron Gates, 244 

Or on the snowy Mossian mountains, 
Far from his beauteous land of dates, 

Her jasmine bowers and sunny fountains : 
Yet happier so than if he trod 
His own belov'd, but blighted, sod, 
Beneath a despot stranger's nod ! 
Oh, he would rather houseless roam 

Where Freedom and his Ciod may lead, 
Than be the sleekest slave at home 

That crouches to the conqueror's creed ! 
Is IRAN'S pride then gone forever, 

Quench'd with the flame in MITHRA'S caves? 
N" she lias sons, that never never 

Will stoop to be the Moslem's slaves, 

While heaven has light or earth has graves; 
Spirits of tin-, that brood not 1<>";7, 
But flash resentment back for wrong; 
And hearts where, slow but deep, the seeds 
Of vengeance ripen into deeds. 
Till, in some treacherous hour of calm, 
They burst, like ZKI LAN'S giant palm, 84 * 


Whose buds fly open with a sound 
That shakes the pigmy forests round ! 

Yes, EMIR ! he, who scal'd that tower, 

And, had he reach'd thy slumbering breast, 
Had taught thee, in a Gheber's power 

How safe e'en tyrant heads may rest 
Is one of many, brave as he, 
Who loathe thy haughty race and thee ; 
Who, though they know the strife is vain, 
Who, though they know the riven chain 
Snaps but to enter in the heart 
Of him who rends its links apart, 
Yet dare the issue, blest to be 
E'en for one bleeding moment free, 
And die in pangs of liberty ! 
Thou know'st them well 'tis some moons since 

Thy turban'd troops and blood-red flags, 
Thou satrap of a bigot Prince, 

Have swarm'd among these Green Sea crags ; 
Yet here, e'en here, a sacred band 
Ay, in the portal of that land 
Thou, Arab, dar'st to call thy own 
Their spears across thy path have thrown; 
Here ere the winds half wing'd thee o'er 
Rebellion brav'd thee from the shore. 

Rebellion ! foul, dishonoring word, 

Whose wrongful blight so oft has stain'd 
The holiest cause that tongue or sword 

Of mortal ever lost or gain'd. 
How many a spirit, born to bless, 

Hath sunk beneath that withering name, 
Whom but a day's, an hour's success 

Had wafted to eternal fame ! 


As exhalations, when they burst 
From the warm earth, if chill'd at first, 
If check'd in soaring from the plain, 
Darken to fogs and sink again ; 
But, if they once triumphant spread 
Their wings above the mountain-head, 
Become enthroned in upper air, 
And turn to sun-bright glories there ! 

And who is he, that wields the might 

Of Freedom on the Green Sea brink, 
Before whose sabre's dazzling light 246 

The eyes of YEMEN'S warriors wink ? 
Who comes, embower'd in the spears 
Of KERMAN'S hardy mountaineers ? 
Those mountaineers that truest, last, 

Cling to their country's ancient rites, 
As if that God, whose eyelids cast 

Their closing gleam on IRAN'S heights, 
Among her snowy mountains threw 
The last light of his worship too ! 

'Tis HA FED name of fear, whose sound 
Chills like the muttering of a charm ! 

Shout but that awful name around, 
And palsy shakes the manliest arm. 

'Tis I IA FED, most accurs'd and dire 

(So rrvnk'd by Moslem hate and ire) 

Of all the rebel Sons of Fire ; 

Of whose malign, tremendous power 

The Arabs, at their mid-watch hour, 

Such tales of fearful wonder tell, 

That each affrighted sentinel 

Pulls down his cowl upon his eyes, 

Lest HAKED in the midst should rise I 


A man, they say, of monstrous birth, 
A mingled race of flame and earth, 
Sprung from those old, enchanted kings, 247 

Who in their fairy helms, of yore, 
A feather from the mystic wings 

Of the Simoorgh resistless wore ; 
And gifted by the Fiends of Fire, 
Who groan'd to see their shrines expire, 
With charms that, all in vain withstood, 
Would drown the Koran's light in blood I 

Such were the tales, that won belief, 

And such the coloring Fancy gave 
To a young, warm, and dauntless Chief, - 

One who, no more than mortal brave, 
Fought for the land his soul ador'd, 

For happy homes and altars free, 
His only talisman, the sword, 

His only spell- word, Liberty ! 
One of that ancient hero line, 
Along whose glorious current shine 
Names, that have sanctified their blood : 
As LEBANON'S small mountain-flood 
Is render'd holy by the ranks 
Of sainted cedars on its banks. 248 
'Twas not for him to crouch the knee 
Tamely to Moslem tyranny ; 
'Twas not for him, whose soul was cast 
In the bright mould of ages past, 
Whose melancholy spirit, fed 
With all the glories of the dead, 
Though fram'd for IRAN'S happiest years, 
Was born among her chains and tears ! 
'Twas not for him to swell the crowd 
Of slavish heads, that shrinking bow'd 


Before the Moslem, as he pass'd, 

Like shrubs beneath the poison-blast 

No far he fled indignant fled 

The pageant of his country's shame ; 
While every tear her children shed 

Fell on his soul like drops of flame ; 
And, as a lover hails the dawn 

Of a first smile, so welcom'd he 
The sparkle of the first sword drawn 

For vengeance and for liberty ! 

But vain was valor vain the flower 
Of KERMAN, in that deathful hour, 
Against AL HASSAN'S whelming power. 
In vain they met him, helm to helm, 
Upon the threshold of that realm 
He came in bigot pomp to sway, 
And with their corpses block'd his way 
In vain for every lance they rais'd, 
Thousands around the conqueror blaz'd ; 
For every arm that lin'd their shore, 
Myriads of slaves were wafted o'er, 
A bloody, bold, and countless crowd, 
Before whose swarm as fast they bow'd 
As dates beneath the locust cloud. 

There stood but one short league away 
From old HARMOZIA'S sultry bay 
A rocky mountain, o'er the Sea 
Of OMAN beetling awfully :" 9 
A last and solitary link 

Of those stupendous chains that reach 
From the broad Caspian's reedy brink 

Down winding to the Green Sea beach. 
Around its base the bare rocks stood, 


Like naked giants in the flood, 

As if to guard the Gulf across ; 
While, on its peak, that brav'd the sky, 
A ruin'd Temple tower'd, so high 

That oft the sleeping albatross 26 
Struck the wild ruins with her wing, 
And from her cloud-rock'd slumbering 
Started to find man's dwelling there 
In her own silent fields of air ! 
Beneath, terrific caverns gave 
Dark welcome to each stormy wave 
That dash'd, like midnight revellers, in ; 
And such the strange, mysterious din 
At times throughout those caverns roll'd, 
And such the fearful wonders told 
Of restless sprites imprison'd there, 
That bold were Moslem, who would dare, 
At twilight hour, to steer his skiff 
Beneath the Gheber's lonely cliff. 251 

On the land side, those towers sublime, 
That seem'd above the grasp of Time, 
Were sever' d from the haunts of men 
By a wide, deep, and wizard glen, 
So fathomless, so full of gloom, 

No eye could pierce the void between : 
It seem'd a place where Gholes might come 
With their foul banquets from the tomb, 

And in its caverns feed unseen. 
Like distant thunder, from below, 

The sound of many torrents came, 
Too deep for eye or ear to know 
If 'twere the sea's imprison'd flow, 

Or floods of ever-restless flame. 
For, each ravine, each rocky spire 


Of that vast mountain stood on fire ; M2 

And, though forever past the days 

When God was worshipp'd in the blaze 

That from its lofty altar shone, 

Though fled the priests, the votaries gone, 

Still did the mighty flame bum on,- 53 

Through chance and change, through good and ill, 

Like its own God's eternal will, 

Deep, constant, bright, unquenchable I 

Thither the vanquish'd HAFED led 

His little army's last remains ; 
" Welcome, terrific glen ! " he said, 
" Thy gloom, that EBLIS' self might dread, 

Is Heaven to him who flies from chains ! " 
O'er a dark, narrow bridge-way, known 
To him and to his Chiefs alone, 
They cross'd the chasm and gain'd the towers, 
" This home," he cried, " at least is ours ; 
Here we may bleed, unmock'd by hymns 

Of Moslem triumph o'er our head ; 
Here we may fall, nor leave our limbs 

To quiver to the Moslem's tread. 
Stretch'd on this rock while vultures' beaks 
Are whetted on our yet warm cheeks, 
Here happy that no tyrant's eye 
Gloats on our torments we may die ! " 

'Twas night when to those towers they came, 

And gloomily the fitful flame, 

That from the ruin'd altar broke, 

Glar'd on his features, as he spoke : 

" 'Tis o'er what men could do, we've done 

If I KAN will look tamely on, 

And see her priests, her warriors driven 

150 LALLA 1100KU. 

Before a sensual bigot's nod, 
A wretch, who shrines his lusts in heaven, 

And makes a pander of his God ; 
If her proud sons, her high-born souls, 

Men, in whose veins oh last disgrace ! 
The blood of ZAL and KusTAM 264 rolls, 

If they will court this upstart race, 
And turn from MITHRA'S ancient ray, 
To kneel at shrines of yesterday 
If they will crouch to IRAN'S foes, 

Why, let them till the land's despair 
Cries out to Heaven, and bondage grows 

Too vile for e'en the vile to bear ! 
Till shame at last, long hidden, burns 
Their inmost core, and conscience turns 
Each coward tear the slave lets fall 
Back on his heart in drops of gall. 
But here, at least, our arms unchain'd, 
And souls that thraldom never stain'd ; 

This spot, at least, no foot of slave 
Or satrap ever yet profan'd ; 

And though but few though fast the wave 
Of life is ebbing from our veins, 
Enough for vengeance still remains. 
As panthers, after set of sun, 
Rush from the roots of LEBANON 
Across the dark sea robber's way, 265 
"We'll bound upon our startled prey ; 
And when some hearts that proudest swell 
Have felt our falchion's last farewell ; 
When Hope's expiring throb is o'er, 
And e'en despair can prompt no more, 
This spot shall be the sacred grave 
Of the last few who, vainly brave, 
Die for the land they cannot save I n 


His Chiefs stood round each shining blade 

Upon the broken altar laid 

And though so wild and desolate 

Those courts, where once the Mighty sate ; 

No longer on those mouldering towers 

Was seen the feast of fruits and flowers, 

With which of old the Magi fed 

The wandering Spirits of their Dead ; 258 

Though neither priest nor rites were there, 

Nor charmed leaf of pure pomegranate ; 2M 
Nor hymn, nor censer's fragrant air, 

Nor symbol of their worshipp'd planet; 26 ' 
Yet the same God that heard their sires 
Heard them, while on that altar's fires 
They swore 269 the latest, holiest deed 
Of the few hearts, still left to bleed, 
Should be, in IRAN'S injur'd name, 
To die upon that Mount of Flame 
The last of all her patriot line, 
Before her last untrampled Shrine ! 

Brave, suffering souls ! they little knew 
How many a tear their injuries drew 
From one weak maid, one gentle foe, 
Whom love first touch'd with otners' woe * 
Whose life, as free from thought as sin, 
Slept like a lake, till Love threw in 
His talisman, and woke the tide, 
And spread its trembling circles wide. 
Once, EMIR! thy unheeding child, 
'Mid all this havoc, bloom'd and smil'd 
Tranquil as on some battle pluin 

The Persian lily shines and towers, 290 
Hefore, the. combat's reddening slain 

Hath fall'ii upon her golden Howers. 

152 LALLA 

Light-hearted maid, unaw'd, immov'd, 
While Heaven but spar'd the sire she lov'd, 
Once at thy evening tales of blood 
Unlistening and aloof she stood 
And oft, when thou hast pac'd along 

Thy Haram halls with furious heat, 
Hast thou not curs'd her cheerful song, 

That came across thee, calm and sweet, 
Like lutes of angels, touch'd so near 
Hell's confines, that the damn'd can hear ! 

Far other feelings Love hath brought 

Her soul all flame, her brow all sadness, 
She now has but the one dear thought, 

And thinks that o'er, almost to madness ! 
Oft does her sinking heart recall 
His words " For my sake weep for all ; " 
And bitterly, as day on day 

Of rebel carnage fast succeeds, 
She weeps a lover snatch'd away 

In every Gheber wretch that bleeds. 
There's not a sabre meets her eye, 

But with his life-blood seems to swim ; 
There's not an arrow wings the sky, 

But fancy turns its point to him. 
No more she brings with footstep light 

AL HASSAN'S falchion for the fight ; 
And had he look'd with clearer sight, 
Had not the mists, that ever rise 
From a foul spirit, dimm'd his eyes 
He would have mark'd her shuddering frame, 
When from the field of blood he came, 
The faltering speech the look estrang'd 
Voice, step, and life, and beauty chang'd 


He would have mark'd all this, and known 
Such change is wrought by Love alone ! 

Ah ! not the Love, that should have bless'd 
So young, so innocent a breast ; 
Not the pure, open, prosperous Love, 
That pledg'd on earth and seal'd above, 
Grows in the world's approving eyes, 

In friendship's smile and home's caress, 
Collecting all the heart's sweet ties 

Into one knot of happiness ! 
No, HINDA, no, thy fatal flame 
Is nurs'd in silence, sorrow, shame ; 

A passion, without hope or pleasure, 
In thy soul's darkness buried deep, 

It lies, like some ill-gotten treasure, 
Some idol, without shrine or name, 
O'er which its pale-eyed votaries keep 
Unholy watch, while others sleep. 

Seven nights have darken'd OMAN'S sea, 
Since last, beneath the moonlight ray, 

She saw his light oar rapidly 

Hurry her Gheber's bark away, 

And still she goes, at midnight hour, 

To weep alone in that high bower, 

And watch, and look along the deep 

For him whose smiles first made her weep; 

lint watching, weeping, all was vain, 

She never saw his bark again. 

The owlet's solitary cry, 

The night-hawk flitting darkly by, 
And oft the hateful carrion bird, 

Heavily flapping his clogg'd wing, 


Which reek'd with that day's banqueting 
Was all she saw, was all she heard. 

'Tis the eighth morn AL HASSAN'S brow 

Is brighten'd with unusual joy 
What mighty mischief glads him now, 

Who never smiles but to destroy ? 
The sparkle upon HERKEND'S Sea, 
When toss'd at midnight furiously, 261 
Tells not of wreck and ruin nigh, 
More surely than that smiling eye ! 
" Up, daughter, up the KERNA'S 262 breath 
Has blown a blast would waken death, 
And yet thou sleep'st up, child, and see 
This blessed day for Heaven and me, 
A day more rich in Pagan blood 
Than ever flash'd o'er OMAN'S flood. 
Before another dawn shall shine, 
His head heart limbs will all be mine ; 
This very night his blood shall steep 
These hands all over ere I sleep ! " 
" His blood ! " she faintly scream'd her mind 
Still singling one from all mankind 
" Yes spite of his ravines and towers, 
HAFED, my child, this night is ours. 
Thanks to all-conquering treachery, 

Without whose aid the links accurst, 
That bind these impious slaves, would be 

Too strong for ALLA'S self to burst ! 
That rebel fiend, whose blade has spread 
My path with piles of Moslem dead, 
Whose baffling spells had almost driven 
Back from their course the Swords of Heaven, 
This night, with all his band, shall know 
How deep an Arab's steel can go, 


When God and Vengeance speed the blow. 
And Prophet ! by that holy wreath 
Thou wor'st on OHOD'S field of death, 268 
I swear, for every sob that parts 
In anguish from these heathen hearts, 
A gem from PERSIA'S plunder'd mines 
Shall glitter on thy Shrine of Shrines. 
But, ha ! she sinks that look so wild 
Those livid lips my child, my child, 
This life of blood befits not thee, 
And thou must back to ARABY. 

Ne'er had I risk'd thy timid sex 
In scenes that man himself might dread, 
Had I not hop'd our every tread 

Would be on prostrate Persian necks 
Curst race, they offer swords instead ! 
But, cheer thee, maid, the wind that now 
Is blowing o'er thy feverish brow, 
To-day shall waft thee from the shore ; 
And, ere a drop of this night's gore 
Have time to chill in yonder towers, 
Thou'lt see thy own sweet Arab bowers ! " 

His bloody boast was all too true ; 
There lurk'd one wretch among the few 
Whom HAFKD'S eagle eye could count 
Around him on that fiery mount, 
One miscreant who for gold betray'd 
The pathway through the valley's shade 
To those high towers whore Freedom stood 
In her last hold of flame and blood. 
Left on the field last dreadful night. 
When, sallying from their Sacred height, 
The (Jhebers fouirht hope's farewell tight, 
He lay but died not with the brave; 


That sun, which should have gilt his grave, 

Saw him a traitor and a slave ; 

And, while the few, who thence return'd 

To their high rocky fortress, mourn'd 

For him among the matchless dead 

They left behind on glory's bed, 

He liv'd, and, in the face of morn, 

Laugh'd them and Faith and Heaven to scorn. 

Oh for a tongue to curse the slave, 

Whose treason, like a deadly blight, 
Comes o'er the councils of the brave, 

And blasts them in their hour of might ! 
May Life's unblessed cup for him 
Be drugg'd with treacheries to the brim, 
With hopes, that but allure to fly, 

With joys, that vanish while he sips, 
Like Dead Sea fruits, that tempt the eye, 

But turn to ashes on the lips ! 264 
His country's curse, his children's shame, 
Outcast of virtue, peace, and fame, 
May he, at last, with lips of flame 
On the parch'd desert thirsting die, 
While lakes that shone in mockery nigh, *** 
Are fading off, untouch'd, untasted, 
Like the once glorious hopes he blasted ! 
And, when from earth his spirit flies, 

Just Prophet, let the damn'd one dwell 
Full in the sight of Paradise, 

Beholding heaven, and feeling hell ! 


LALLA KOOKH had, the night before, been visited by a 
dream which, in spite of the impending fate of poor 
H.v FED, made her heart more than usually cheerful dur- 
ing the morning, and gave her cheeks all the freshened 
animation of a flower that the Bid-musk had just passed 
over. 266 She fancied that she was sailing on that Eastern 
Ocean, where the sea-gipsies, who live forever on the 
water, 267 enjoy a perpetual summer in wandering from 
isle to isle, when she saw a small gilded bark approach- 
ing her. It was like one of those boats which the Mal- 
divian islanders send adrift at the mercy of Avinds 
and waves, loaded Avith perfumes, flowers, and odorifer- 
ous wood, as an offering to the Spirit \vhom they call 
King of the Sea. At first, this little bark appeared to be 
empty, but, on coming nearer 

She had proceeded thus far in relating the dream to 
her Ladies, when FKRAMOKZ appeared at the door of the 
pavilion. In his presence, of course, everything else 
was forgotten, and the continuance of the story Avas in- 
stantly requested by all. Fresh wood of aloes was set to 
burn in the cassolets; the violet sherbets 268 were hastily 
handed round, and after a short prelude on his lute, in 
the pathetic measure of Xava, >Jfl9 which is always used 
to express the lamentations of absent lovers, the Poet 
thus continued: 


THE day is lowering stilly black 
Sleeps the grim wave, while heaven's rack, 
Dispers'd and wild, 'twixt earth and sky 
Hangs like a shatter'd canopy. 
There's not a cloud in that blue plain 

But tells of storm to come or past ; 
Here, flying loosely as the mane 

Of a young war-horse in the blast ; 
There roll'd in masses dark and swelling, 
As proud to be the thunder's dwelling ! 
While some already burst and riven, 
Seem melting down the verge of heaven ; 
As though the infant storm had rent 

The mighty womb that gave him birth, 
And, having swept the firmament, 

Was now in fierce career for earth. 
On earth 'twas yet all calm around, 
A pulseless silence, dread, profound, 
More awful than the tempest's sound. 
The diver steer'd for ORMUS' bowers, 
And moor'd his skiff till calmer hours ; 
The sea-birds, with portentous screech, 
Flew fast to land ; upon the beach 
The pilot oft had paus'd, with glance 
Turn'd upward to that wild expanse ; 
And all was boding, drear, and dark 
As her own soul, when HINDA'S bark 
Went slowly from the Persian shore. 
No music tim'd her parting oar, 270 
Nor friends upon the lessening strand 
Linger' d, to wave the unseen hand, 
Or speak the farewell, heard no more ; 


But lone, unheeded, from the bay 
The vessel takes its mournful way, 
Like some ill-destin'd bark that steers 
In silence through the Gate of Tears. 271 
And where was stern AL HASSAN then ? 
Could not that saintly scourge of men 
From bloodshed and devotion spare 
One minute for a farewell there ? 
No close within, in changeful fits 
Of cursing and of prayer, he sits 
In savage loneliness to brood 
Upon the coming night of blood, 

With that keen second-scent of death, 
By which the vulture snuffs his food 

In the still warm and living breath ! 272 
While o'er the wave his Aveeping daughter 
Is wafted from these scenes of slaughter, 
As a young bird of BABYLOx, 278 
Let loose to tell of victory won, 
Flies home, with wing, ah ! not unstain'd 
By the red hands that held her chain'd. 

And does the long-left home she seeks 

Light up no gladness on her checks ? 

The flowers she nurs'd the well-known groves, 

Where oft in dreams her spirit roves 

Once more Co see her dear gazelles 

Come bounding with their silver bells ; 

Her birds' new plumage to Ix-hold, 

And the gay, gleaming fishes conr % 
She left, all filleted with gold. 

Shooting around their jasper fount, ** 
Her little garden mosque to see, 

And once again, at evening hour, 
To tell her ruby rosary* 7 * 


In her own sweet acacia bower. 
Can these delights, that wait her now, 
Call up no sunshine on her brow ? 
No, silent, from her train apart, 
As if e'en now she felt at heart 
The chill of her approaching doom, 
She sits, all lovely in her gloom 
As a pale Angel of the Grave ; 
And o'er the wide, tempestuous wave, 
Looks, with a shudder, to those towers, 
Where, in a few short awful hours, 
Blood, blood, in streaming tides shall run, 
Foul incense for to-morrow's sun ! 
" Where art thou, glorious stranger ! thou, 
So loved, so lost, where art thou now ? 
Foe Gheber infidel whate'er 
The unhallow'd name thou'rt doom'd to bear, 
Still glorious still to this fond heart 
Dear as its blood, whate'er thou art ! 
Yes ALLA, dreadful ALLA ! yes 
If there be wrong, be crime in this, 
Let the black waves that round us roll, 
Whelm me this instant, ere my soul, 
Forgetting faith home father all 
"Before its earthly idol fall, 
NOT worship e'en Thyself above him 
For, oh, so wildly do I love him, 
Thy Paradise itself were dim 
And joyless, if not shared with him ! " 

Her hands were clasp'd her eyes upturn'd, 
Dropping their tears like moonlight rain ; 

And, though her lip, fond raver ! burn'd 
With words of passion, bold, profane, 

Yet was there light around her brow, 


A holiness in those dark eyes, 
Which show'd, though wandering earthward now, 

Her spirit's home was in the skies. 
Yes for a spirit pure as hers 
Is always pure, e'en while it errs; 
As sunshine, broken in the rill, 
Though turn'd astray, is sunshine still I 

So wholly had her mind forgot 

All thoughts but one, she heeded not 

The rising storm the wave that cast 

A moment's midnight, as it pass'd 

Nor heard the frequent shout, the tread 

Of gathering tumult o'er her head 

Clash'd swords, and tongues that seem'd to 


With the rude riot of the sky. 
But, hark ! that war-whoop on the deck 

That crash, as if each engine there, 
Masts, sails, and all, were gone to wreck, 

'Mid yells and stampings of despair ! 
Merciful Heaven ! what can it be ? 
'Tis not the storm, though fearfully 
The ship has shudder'd as she rode 
O'er mountain-waves " Forgive me, God ! 
Forgive me !" shrieked the maid, and knelt, 
Trembling all over for she felt 
As if her judgment hour was near, 
While crouching round, half dead witli fear, 
Her handmaids clung, nor breath'd, nor stirr'd 
When, hark ! a second crash a third 
And now, as if a bolt of thunder 
Had riv'n the laboring planks asunder, 
The deck falls in what horrors then ! 
Blood, waves, and tackle, swords and men 


Come mix'd together through the chasm, 
Some wretches in their dying spasm 
Still fighting on and some that call 
" For GOD and IRAN ! " as they fall ! 

Whose was the hand that turn'd away 

The perils of the infuriate fray, 

And snatch'd her breathless from beneath 

This wilderment of wreck and death ? 

She knew not for a faintness came 

Chill o'er her, and her sinking frame 

Amid the ruins of that hour 

Lay, like a pale and scorched flower, 

Beneath the red volcano's shower. 

But, oh ! the sights and sounds of dread 

That shock'd her ere her senses fled ! 

The yawning deck the crowd that strove 

Upon the tottering planks above 

The sail, whose fragments, shivering o'er 

The stragglers' heads all dash'd with gore, 

Flutter'd like bloody flags the clash 

Of sabres, and the lightning's flash 

Upon their blades, high toss'd about 

Like meteor brands 276 as if throughout 

The elements one fury ran, 
One general rage, that left a doubt 

Which was the fiercer, Heaven or Man ! 

Once too but no it could not be 
'Twas fancy all yet once she thought 

While yet her fading eyes could see, 
High on the ruin'd deck she caught 

A glimpse of that unearthly form, 
That glory of her soul, e'en then, 

Amid the whirl of wreck and storm, 


Shining above his fellow-men, 
As, on some black and troublous night, 
The Star of EGYPT, 277 whose proud light 
Never hath beam'd on those who rest 
In the White Islands of the West, 278 
Burns through the storm with looks of flame 
That put Heaven's cloudier eyes to shame. 
But no 'twas but the minute's dream 
A fantasy and ere the scream 
Had half-way pass'd her pallid lips, 
A death-like swoon, a chill eclipse 
Of soul and sense its darkness spread 
Around her, and she sunk, as dead. 

How calm, how beautiful comes on 

The stilly hour, when storms are gone ; 

When warring winds have died away, 

And clouds, beneath the glancing ray, 

Melt off, and leave the land and sea 

Sleeping in bright tranquillity, 

Fresh as if Day again were born, 

Again upon the lap of Morn ! 

When the light blossoms, rudely torn 

And scatter'd at the whirlwind's will, 

Hang floating in the pure air still, 

Filling it all with precious balm, 

In gratitude for this sweet calm; 

And every drop the thunder-showers 

Have left upon the grass and flowers 

Sparkles, as 'twere that lightning-gem 27> 

Whose liquid flame is born of them ! 

When, 'stead of one unchanging breeze, 
There blow a thousand gentle airs, 
And each a different perfume bears, 

As if the loveliest plants and trees 


Had vassal breezes of their own 
To watch and wait on them alone, 

And waft no other breath than theirs : 
When the blue waters rise and fall, 
In sleepy sunshine mantling all ; 
And e'en that swell the tempest leaves 
Is like the full and silent heaves 
Of lovers' hearts, when newly blest, 
Too newly to be quite at rest. 

Such was the golden hour that broke 

Upon the world, when HINDA woke 

From her long trance, and heard around 

No motion but the water's sound 

Rippling against the vessel's side, 

As slow it mounted o'er the tide. 

But where is she ? her eyes are dark, 

Are wilder'd still is this the bark, 

The same, that from HARMOZIA'S bay 

Bore her at morn whose bloody way 

The sea-dog track'd ? no strange and new 

Is all that meets her wondering view. 

Upon a galliot's deck she lies, 

Beneath no rich pavilion's shade, 
No plumes to fan her sleeping eyes, 

Nor jasmine on her pillow laid. 
But the rude litter, roughly spread 
With war-cloaks, is her homely bed, 
And shaAvl and sash, on javelins hung, 
For awning o'er her head are flung, 
Shuddering she look'd around there lay 

A group of warriors in the sun, 
Resting their limbs, as for that day 

Their ministry of death were done. 
Some gazing on the drowsy sea. 


Lost in unconscious reverie ; 
And some, who seein'd but ill to brook 
That sluggish calm, with many a look 
To the slack sail impatient cast, 
As loose it flagg'd around the mast. 

Blest ALLA ! who shall save her now ? 

There's not in all that warrior band 
One Arab sword, one turbau'd brow 

From her own Faithful Moslem land. 
Their garb the leathern belt 28 that wraps 

Each yellow vest 281 that rebel hue 
The Tartar fleece upon their caps 282 

Yes yes her fears are all too true, 
And Heaven hath, in this dreadful hour, 
Abandon'd her to HAFED'S power ; 
HAFED, the Gheber ! at the thought 

Her very heart's blood chills within ; 
He, whom her soul was hourly taught 

To loathe, as some foul fiend of sin, 
Some minister, whom Hell had sent 
To spread its blast, where'er he went, 
And fling, as o'er our earth he trod, 
His shadow betwixt man and God! 
And she is now his captive, thrown 
In his fierce hands, alive, alone ; 
His the infuriate band she sees, 
All infidels all enemies! 
What was the daring hope that then 
Cross'd her like lightning, as again, 
With boldness that despair had lent, 

She darted through that armed crowd 
A look HO searching, so intent, 

That e'en tin; sternest warrior bow'd 
Abash'd, when lie h< r glances caught, 


As if he guess'd whose form they sought ? 
But no she sees him not 'tis gone, 
The vision that before her shone. 
Through all the maze of blood and storm, 
Is tied 'twas but a phantom form 
One of those passing, rainbow dreams, 
Half light, half shade, which Fancy's beams 
Paint on the fleeting mists that roll 
In trance or slumber round the soul. 

But now the bark, with livelier bound, 

Scales the blue wave the crew's in motion. 

The oars are out, and with light sound 
Break the bright mirror of the ocean, 

Scattering its brilliant fragments round. 

And now she sees with horror sees, 

Their course is tow'rd that mountain-hold, 

Those towers, that make her life-blood freeze, 

Where MECCA'S godless enemies 

Lie, like beleaguer'd scorpions, roll'd 
In their last deadly, venomous fold ! 

Amid the illumin'd land and flood 

Sunless that mighty mountain stood ; 

Save where, above its awfiil head, 

There shone a flaming cloud, blood-red, 

As 'twere the flag of destiny 

Hung out to mark where death would be ! 

Had her bewilder'd mind the power 
Of thought in this terrific hour, 
She well might marvel where or how 
Man's foot could scale that mountain's brow, 
Since ne'er had Arab heard or known 
Of path but through the glen alone. 
But every thought was lost in fear, 


When, as their bounding bark drew near 

The craggy base, she felt the waves 

Hurry them tow'rd those dismal caves, 

That from the Deep in windings pass 

Beneath that Mount's volcanic mass ; 

And loud a voice on deck commands 

To lower the mast and light the brands ! 

Instantly o'er the dashing tide 

Within a cavern's mouth they glide, 

Gloomy as that eternal Porch 

Through which departed spirits go : 

Not e'en the flare of brand and torch 
Its flickering light could further throw 
Than the thick flood that boil'd below. 

Silent they floated as if each 

Sat breathless, and too aw'd for speech 

In that dark chasm, where even sound 

Seem'd dark, so sullenly around 

The goblin echoes of the cave 

Mutter'd it o'er the long black wave, 

As 'twere some secret of the grave ! 

But soft they pause the current turns 
Beneath them from its onward track ; 

Some mighty, unseen barrier spurns 
The vexed tide, all foaming, back, 

And scarce the oars' redoubled force 

Can stem the eddy's whirling force; 

When, hark ! some desperate foot has spnmg 

Among the rocks the chain is flung 

The oars are up the grapple clings, 

And tin 1 toss'd bark in moorings swings. 

Just then, a day -beam through the shade 

Broke tremulous but, ere the maid 

Can see from whence the brightness steals, 


Upon her brow she shuddering feels 
A viewless hand, that promptly ties 
A bandage round her burning eyes ; 
"While the rude litter where she lies, 
Uplifted by the warrior throng, 
O'er the steep rocks is borne along. 

Blest power of sunshine ! genial Day, 
What balm, what life is in thy ray ! 
To feel thee is such real bliss, 
That had the world no joy but this, 
To sit in sunshine calm and sweet, 
It were a world too exquisite 
For man to leave it for the gloom, 
The deep, cold shadow of the tomb. 
E'en HINDA, though she saw not where 

Or whither wound the perilous road, 
Yet knew by that awakening air, 

Which suddenly around her glow'd, 
That they had risen from darkness then, 
And breath'd the sunny world again ! 
But soon this balmy freshness fled 
For now the steepy labyrinth led 
Through damp and gloom 'mid crash of boughs, 
And fall of loosen'd crags that rouse 
The leopard from his hungry sleep, 

Who, starting, thinks each crag a prey, 
And long is heard, from steep to steep, 

Chasing them down their thundering way ! 
The jackal's cry the distant moan 
Of the hyaena, fierce and lone 
And that eternal saddening sound 

Of torrents in the glen beneath, 
As 'twere the ever-dark Profound 

That rolls beneath the Bridge of Death ! 


All, all is fearful e'en to see, 

To gaze on those terrific things 
She now but blindly hears, would be 

Relief to her imaginings ; 
Since never yet was shape so dread, 

But Fancy, thus in darkness thrown 
And by such sounds of horror fed, 

Could frame more dreadful of her own. 

But does she dream ? has Fear again 
Perplex'd the workings of her brain, 
Or did a voice, all music, then 
Come from the gloom, low whispering near 
" Tremble not, love, thy Gheber's here ! " 
She does not dream all sense, all ear, 
She drinks the words, "Thy Gheber's here." 
'Twas his own voice she could not err 

Throughout the breathing world's extent 
There was but one such voice for her, 

So kind, so soft, so eloquent ! 
Oh, sooner shall the rose of May 

Mistake her own sweet nightingale, 
And to some meaner minstrel's lay 

Open her bosom's glowing veil, 288 
Than Love shall ever doubt a tone, 
A breath of the beloved one ! 

Though blest, 'mid all her ills, to think 

She has that one beloved near, 
Whose smile, though met on ruin's brink, 

Hath power to make eVri ruin dear, 
Yet soon this gleam of rapture, crost 
By fears for him, is chill'd and lost. 
How shall the ruthless HAKKII brook 
That one of Gheber blood .should look, 


With auglit but curses in his eye, 

On her a maid of ARABY 

A Moslem maid the child of him, 

Whose bloody banner's dire success 
Hath left their altars cold and dim, 

And their fair land a wilderness ! 
And, worse than all, that night of blood 

Which comes so fast oh ! who shall stay 
The sword, that once hath tasted food 

Of Persian hearts, or turn its way ? 
What arm shall then the victim cover, 
Or from her father shield her lover ? 

" Save him, my God ! " she inly cries 
" Save him this night and if thine eyes 

Have ever welcom'd with delight 
The sinner's tears, the sacrifice 
Of sinners' hearts guard him this night, 
And here, before Thy throne, I swear 
v From my heart's inmost core to tear 

Love, hope, remembrance, though they be 
Link'd with each quivering life-string there, 

And give it bleeding all to Thee ! 
Let him but live, the burning tear, 
The sighs, so sinful, yet so dear, 
Which have been all too much his own, 
Shall from this hour be Heaven's alone. 
Youth pass'd in penitence, and age 
In long and painful pilgrimage, 
Shall leave no traces of the flame 
That wastes me now nor shall his name 
E'er bless my lips, but when I pray 
For his dear spirit, that away 
Casting from its angelic ray 
The eclipse of earth, he, too, may shine 


Redeera'd all glorious and all Thine ! 
Think think what victory to win 
One radiant soul like his from sin, 
One wandering star of virtue back 
To its own native, heavenward track ! 
Let him but live, and both are Thine, 

Together Thine for, blest or crost, 
Living or dead, his doom is mine, 

And, if he perish, both are lost I " 


THE next evening, LALLA ROOKH was entreated by hev 
Ladies to continue the relation of her wonderful dream ; 
but the fearful interest that hung round the fate of 
HIND A and her lover had completely removed every trace 
of it from her mind ; much to the disappointment of a 
fair seer or two in her train, who prided themselves on 
their skill in interpreting visions, and who had already 
remarked, as an unlucky omen, that the Princess, on the 
very morning after the dream, had worn a silk dyed with 
the blossoms of the sorrowful tree, Nilica. 28 * 

FADLADEEN, whose indignation had more than once 
broken out during the recital of some parts of this heter- 
odox poem, seemed at length to have made up his mind 
to the infliction ; and took his seat this evening with all 
the patience of a martyr, while the Poet resumed his 
profane and seditious story as follows : 


To tearless eyes and hearts at ease 
The leafy shores and sun-bright seas, 
That lay beneath that mountain's height, 
Had been a fair enchanting sight. 
'Twos one of those ambrosial eves 
A day of storm so often leaves 
At its calm setting when the West 
Opens her golden bowers of rest, 
And a moist radiance from the skies 
Shoots trembling down, as from the eyes 
Of some meek penitent, whose last 
Bright hours atone for dark ones past, 
And whose sweet tears, o'er wrong forgiven, 
Shine, as they fall, with light from heaven ! 

'Twas stillness all the winds that late 

Had rush'd through KERMAN'S almond groves, 
And shaken from her bowers of date 

That cooling feast the traveller loves, 285 
Now, lull'd to languor, scarcely curl 

The Green Sea wave, whoso waters gleam 
Limpid, as if her mines of pearl 

Were melted all to form the stream : 
And her fair islets, small and bright, 

With their green shores reflected there, 
Look like those PERI isles of light, 

That hang by spell-work in the air. 

But vainly did those glories burst 
On HINDA'S dazzled eyes, when first 
The bandage from her brow \va,s taken, 
And, pale and awed as those who waken 


In their dark tombs when, scowling near, 
The Searchers of the Grave 286 appear, 
She shuddering turn'd to read her fate 

In the fierce eyes that fiash'd around; 
And saw those towers all desolate, 

That o'er her head terrific frown'd, 
As if defying e'en the smile 
Of that soft heaven to gild their pile. 
In vain, with mingled hope and fear, 
She looks for him, whose voice so dear 
Had come, like music, to her ear 
Strange, mocking dream ! again 'tis fled. 
And oh, the shoots, the pangs of dread 
That through her inmost bosom run, 

When voices from without proclaim 
"HAFED, the Chief" and, one by one, 

The warriors shout that fearful name ! 
He comes the rock resounds his tread 
How shall she dare to lift her head, 
Or meet those eyes whose scorching glare 
Not YEMEN'S boldest sons can bear ? 
In whose red beam, the Moslem tells, 
Such rank and deadly lustre dwells, 
As in those hellish fires that light 
The mandrake's charnel leaves at night. 287 
How shall she bear that voice's tone, 
At whose loud battle-cry alone 
Whole squadrons oft in panic ran, 
Scatter'd like some vast caravan, 
When, stretch'd at evening round the well, 
They hear the thirsting tiger's yell ! 
Breathless she stands, with eyes cast down, 
Shrinking beneath the fiery frown 
Which, fancy tells her, from that brow 
Is flashing o'er her fiercely now : 


And shuddering as she hears the tread 

Of his retiring warrior band. 
Never was pause so full of dread ; 

Till HAFED with a trembling hand 
Took hers, and, leaning o'er her, said, 
" HINDA ; " that word was all he spoke, 
And 'twas enough the shriek that broke 

From her full bosom told the rest. 
Panting with terror, joy, surprise, 
The muid but lifts her wondering eyes, 
' To hide them on her Gheber's breast ! 
'Tis he, 'tis he the man of blood, 
The fellest of the Fire-fiend's brood, 
HAFEU, the demon of the fight, 
Whose voice unnerves, whose glances blight, 
Is her own loved Gheber, mild 
And glorious as when first he smil'd 
In her lone tower, and left such beams 
Of his pure eye to light her dreams, 
That she believ'd her bower had given 
Rest to some wanderer from heaven. 

Moments there are, and this was one, 
Snatch 'd like a minute's gleam of sun 
Amid the black Simoom's eclipse 

Or, like those verdant spots that bloom 
Around the crater's burning lips, 

Sweetening the very edge of doom ! 
The past the future all that Fate 
Can bring of dark or desperate 
Around such hours, but makes them cast 
Intenser radiance while they last! 

Even he, this youth though dimm'd and gone 
Each star of Hope that cheer'd him on 


His glories lost his cause betray'd 

IBAK, his dear-lov'd country, made 

A land of carcasses and slaves, 

One dreary waste of chains and graves ! 

Himself but lingering, dead at heart, 

To see the last, long struggling breath 
Of Liberty's great soul depart, 

Then lay him down and share her death 
Even he, so sunk in wretchedness, 

With doom still darker gathering o'er him, 
Yet, in this moment's pure caress, 

In the mild eyes that shone before him, 
Beaming that blest assurance, worth 
All other transports known on earth, 
That he was lov'd well, warmly lov'd 
Oh ! in this precious hour he prov'd 
How deep, how thorough-felt the glow 
Of rapture, kindling out of woe ; 
How exquisite one single drop 
Of bliss, thus sparkling to the top 
Of misery's cup how keenly quaff' d, 
Though death must follow on the draught t 

She, too, while gazing on those eyes 

That sink into her soul so deep, 
Forgets all fears, all miseries, 

Or feels them like the wretch in sleep, 
Whom fancy cheats into a smile, 
Who dreams of joy, and sobs the while ! 
The mighty Ruins where they stood, 

Upon the mount's high, rocky verge, 
Lay open tow'rds the ocean flood, 

Where lightly o'er the illumin'd surge 
Many a fair bark that, all the day, 
Had lurk'd in sheltering creek or bay, 


Now bounded on, and gave their sails, 
Yet dripping, to the evening gales ; 
Like eagles, when the storm is done, 
Spreading their wet wings in the sun. 
The beauteous clouds, though daylight's Star 
Had sunk behind the hills of LAR, 

Were still with lingering glories bright, 
As if, to grace the gorgeous West, 

The Spirit of departing Light 
That eve had left his sunny vest 

Behind him, ere he wing'd his flight. 
Never was scene so form'd for love ! 
Beneath them waves of crystal move 
In silent swell Heaven glows above, 
And their pure hearts, to transport given, 
Swell like the wave, and glow like Heaven, 

But, ah ! too soon that dream is past 

Again, again her fear returns ; 
Night, dreadful night, is gathering fast, 

More faintly the horizon burns, 
And every rosy tint that lay 
On the smooth sea hath died away. 
Hastily to the darkening skies 
A glance she casts then wildly cries: 
" At niyht, he said and look, 'tis near 

Fly, fly if yet thou lov'st me, fly 
Soon will his murderous band be here, 

And 1 shall see thee bleed and die. 
Hush ! heard'st thou not the tramp of men 
Sounding from yonder fearful glen ? 
Perhaps e'en now they climb the wood 

Fly, fly though still the West is bright, 
He'll come oh ! yes he wants thy blood 

I know him he'll riot wait for night ! " 


In terrors e'en to agony 

She clings around the wondering Chief ; 
" Alas, poor wilder'd niaid ! to me 

Thou ow'st this raving trance of grief. 
Lost as I am, nought ever grew 
Beneath my shade but perish'd too 
My doom is like the Dead Sea air, 
And nothing lives that enters there ! 
Why were our barks together driven 
Beneath this morning's furious heaven ? 
Why when I saw the prize that chance 

Had thrown into my desperate arms, 
When, casting but a single glance 

Upon thy pale and prostrate charms, 
I vow'd (though watching viewless o'er 

Thy safety through that hour's alarms) 
To meet the unmanning sight no more 
Why have I broke that heart-wrung vow ? 
Why weakly, madly met thee now ? 
Start not that noise is but the shock 

Of torrents through yon valley hurl'd 
Dread nothing here upon this rock 

We stand above the jarring world, 
Alike beyond its hope its dread 
In gloomy safety, like the Dead ! 
Or, could e'en earth and hell unite 
In league to storm this Sacred Height, 
Fear nothing thou myself, to-night, 
And each o'erlooking star that dwells 
Near God, will be thy sentinels ; 
And ere to-morrow's dawn shall glow, 
Back to thy sire " 

" To-morrow ! no 
The maiden scream'd " thou'lt never see 
To-morrow's sun death, death will be 


The night-cry through each reeking tower, 

Unless we fly, ay, fly this hour ! 

Thou art betray'd some wretch who knew 

That dreadful glen's mysterious clew 

Nay, doubt not by yon stars, 'tis true 

Hath sold thee to my vengeful sire ; 

This morning, with that smile so dire 

He wears in joy, he told me all, 

And stamp'd in triumph through our hall, 

As though thy heart already beat 

Its last life-throb beneath his feet! 

Good Heaven, how little dream'd I then 

His victim was my own lov'd youth ! 
Fly send let some one watch the glen 

By all my hopes of heaven 'tis truth ! " 

Oh ! colder than the wind that freezes 

Founts, that but now in sunshine play'd, 
Is that congealing pang which seizes 

The trusting bosom, when betray'd. 
He felt it deeply felt and stood, 
As if the tale had frozen his blood, 

So maz'd and motionless was he; 
Like one whom sudden spells enchant, 
Or some mute, marble habitant 

Of the still Halls of ISIIMONIK ! 3 " 

Hut soon the painful chill was o'er, 
And his great soul, herself once more, 
Look'd from his brow in all the rays 
Of her l>est, happiest, grandest days. 
Never, in moment most elate, 

Did that hi.^h spirit loftier rise; 
While bright, serene, determinate, 

His looks are lifted to the skies, 


As if the signal lights of Fate 

Were shining in those awful eyes ! 
'Tis come his hour of martyrdom 
In IRAN'S sacred cause is come ; 
And, though his life hath pass'd away 
Like lightning on a stormy day, 
Yet shall his death-hour leave a track 

Of glory, permanent and bright, 
To which the brave of after-times, 
The suffering brave, shall long look back 
With proud regret, and by its light 
Watch through the hours of slavery's night 
For vengeance on the oppressor's crimes. 
This rock, his monument aloft, 

Shall speak the tale to many an age ; 
And hither bards and heroes oft 

Shall come in secret pilgrimage, 
And bring their warrior sons, and tell 
The wondering boys where HAFED fell ; 
And swear them on those lone remains 
Of their lost country's ancient fanes, 
Never while breath of life shall live 
Within them never to forgive 
The accursed race, whose ruthless chain 
Hath left on IRAN'S neck a stain 
Blood, blood alone can cleanse again ! 

Such are the swelling thoughts that now 
Enthrone themselves on HAFED'S brow; 
And ne'er did saint of ISSA 289 gaze 

On the red wreath, for martyrs twin'd, 
More proudly than the youth surveys 

That pile, which through the gloom behind, 
Half lighted by the altar's fire, 
Glimmers his destin'd. funera.1 pyre! 

THE FlHE-WOliSaiPPEttS. 181 

Heap'd by his own, his comrades' hands, 

Of every wood of odorous breath, 
There, by the Fire-God's shrine it stands, 

Ready to fold in radiant death 
The few still left of those who swore 
To perish there, when hope was o'er 
The few, to whom that couch of flame, 
Which rescues them from bonds and shame, 
Is sweet and Avelcome as the bed 
For their own infant Prophet spread, 
When pitying Heaven to roses turn'd 
The death-flames that beneath him burn'd ! ^ 

With watchfulness the maid attends 

His rapid glance, where'er it bends 

Why shoot his eyes such awful beams ? 

What plans he now ? what thinks or dreams ? 

Alas ! why stands he musing here, 

When every moment teems with fear ? 

" H.VFKD, my own beloved Lord," 

She kneeling cries " first, last ador'd ! 

If in that soul thou'st ever felt 

Half what thy lips impassion'd swore, 
Here, on my knees that never knelt 

To any but their Hod before, 
I pray thee, as thou lov'st me, fly 
Jsow, now ere yet their blades are nigh. 
Oh haste the bark that brought me hither 

Can waft us o'er yon darkening sea 
East west alas, I care not whither, 

So thou art safe, and I with thee ! 
Go where we will, this hand in thine, 

Those eyes In-fore me smiling thus, 
Through good and ill, through storm and shine, 

The world's a world of love for us ! 


On some calm, blessed shore we'll dwell, 
Where 'tis no crime to love too well ; 
Where thus to worship tenderly 
An erring child of light like thee 
Will not be sin or, if it be, 
Where we may weep our faults away, 
Together kneeling, night and day, 
Thou, for my sake, at ALLA'S shrine, 
And I at any God's for thine ! " 

Wildly these passionate words she spoke 
Then hung her head, and wept for shame ; 
Sobbing as if a heart-string broke 

W T ith every deep-heav'd sob that came. 
While he, young, warm oh ! wonder not 
If, for a moment, pride and fame, 
His oath his cause that shrine of flame. 
And IRAN'S self are all forgot 
For her whom at his feet he sees 
Kneeling in speechless agonies. 
No, blame him not, if Hope awhile 
Dawn'd in his soul, and threw her smile 
O'er hours to come o'er days and nights, 
Wing'd with those precious, pure delights 
Which she, who bends all beauteous there, 
Was born to kindle and to share. 
A tear or two, which, as he bow'd 

To raise the suppliant, trembling stole, 
First warn'd him of this dangerous cloud 

Of softness passing o'er his soul. 
Starting, he brush'd the drops away, 
Unworthy o'er that cheek to stray ; 
Like one who, on the morn of fight, 
Shakes from his sword the dews of night, 
That had but dimm'd, not stain'd its light. 

THE FinE-\voRsnirpEiiS. 183 

Yet, though subdued the unnerving thrill, 
Its warmth, its weakness lingered still, 

So touching in each look and tone 
That the fond, fearing, hoping maid 
Half counted on the flight she pray'd, 

Half thought the hero's soul was grown 

As soft, as yielding as her own, 
And smil'd and bless'd him, while he said, 
" Yes if there be some happier sphere, 
Where fadeless truth like ours is dear, 
If there be any land of rest 

For those who love and ne'er forget, 
Oh ! comfort thee for safe and blest 

We'll meet in that calm region yet ! " 

Scarce had she time to ask her heart 
If good or ill these words impart, 
When the rous'd youth impatient flew 
To the tower-wall, where, high in view, 
A ponderous sea-horn 2 " hung, and blew 
A signal, deep and dread as those 
The storm-fiend at his rising blows. 
Full well his Chieftains, sworn and true 
Through life and death, that signal knew; 
For 'twas the appointed warning-blast, 
The alarm, to tell when hope was past, 
And the tremendous death-die cast! 
And there, upon the mouldering tower, 
Hath hung this sea-horn many an hour, 
Ready to sound o'er land and sea 
That dirge-note of the brave and free. 
They c;ime his Chieftains at the call 
Came slowly round, and with them all 
Alas, how few ! the worn remains 
Of those who late o'er KK UMAX'S plains 


Went gayly prancing to the clash 

Of Moorish zel and tyinbalon, 
Catching new hope from every flash 

Of their long lances in the sun, 
And, as their coursers charg'd the wind, 
And the white ox-tails stream'd behind, 292 
Looking as if the steeds they rode 
Were wing'd, and every Chief a God ! 
How fallen, how alter'd now ! how wan 
Each scarr'd and faded visage shone, 
As round the burning shrine they came ! 

How deadly was the glare it cast, 
As mute they paus'd before the flame 

To light their torches as they pass'd ! 
'Twas silence all the youth had plann'd 
The duties of his soldier-band ; 
And each determin'd brow declares 
His faithful Chieftains well know theirs. 

But minutes speed night gems the skies 
And oh, how soon, ye blessed eyes, 
That look from heaven, ye may behold 
Sights that will turn your star-fires cold ! 
Breathless with awe, impatience, hope, 
The maiden sees the veteran group 
Her litter silently prepare, 

And lay it at her trembling feet ; 
And now the youth, with gentle care, 

Hath placed her in the shelter'd seat, 
And press'd her hand that lingering press 

Of hands, that for the last time sever; 
Of hearts, whose pulse of happiness, 

When that hold breaks, is dead forever. 
And yet to her this sad caress 

Gives hope so fondly hope can err ! 


'Twas joy, she thought, joy's mute excess 

Their happy flight's dear harbinger ; 
'Twas warmth assurance tenderness 

'Twas anything but leaving her. 

" Haste, haste ! " she cried, " the clouds grow 


But still, ere night, we'll reach the bark ; 
And by to-morrow's dawn oh bliss ! 

With thee upon the sun-bright deep, 
Far off, I'll but remember this, 

As some dark vanish'd dream of sleep ; 
And thou " but ah ! he answers not 

Good Heaven ! and does she go alone ? 
She now has reach'd that dismal spot, 

Where, some hours since, his voice's tone 
Had come to soothe her fears and ills, 
Sweet as the angel IsnAFiL's, 2 * 8 
When every leaf on Eden's tree 
Is trembling to his minstrelsy 
Yet now oh, now, he is not nigh. 

HA FED ! my HA FED ! if it be 
Thy will, thy doom this night to die, 

Let me but stay to die with thee, 
And I will bless thy loved name, 
Till the last life-breath leave this frame. 
Oh ! let our lips, our cheeks be laid 
lint near each other while they fade ; 
Let us but mix our parting breaths, 
And I can die ten thousand deaths! 
You too, who hurry me away 
So cruelly, one moment stay - 

Oli ! stay one moment is not much 
He yet may come for ////// I pray 
HAKKD ! dear HAFED! " all the way 


In wild lamentings, that would touch 
A heart of stone, she shriek'd his name 
To the dark woods no HAFED came : 
No hapless pair you've look'd your last : 

Your hearts should both have broken then : 
The dream is o'er your doom is cast 

You'll never meet on earth again ! 

Alas for him, who hears her cries ! 

Still half-way down the steep he stands, 
Watching with fix'd and feverish eyes 

The glimmer of those burning brands, 
That down the rocks, with mournful ray, 
Light all he loves on earth away ! 
Hopeless as they who, far at sea, 

By the cold moon have just consign'd 
The corse of one, lov'd tenderly, 

To the bleak flood they leave behind ; 
And on the deck still lingering stay, 
And long look back, Avith sad delay, 
To watch the moonlight on the wave, 
That ripples o'er that cheerless grave. 

But see he starts what heard he then ? 
That dreadful shout ! across the glen 
From the land-side it comes, and loud 
Rings through the chasm ; as if the crowd 
Of fearful things, that haunt that dell, 
Its Gholes and Dives and shapes of hell, 
Had all in one dread howl broke out, 
So loud, so terrible that shout ! 
" They come the Moslems come ! " he cries. 
His proud soul mounting to his eyes, 
"Now, Spirits of the Brave, who roam 
Enfranchis'd through yon starry dome, 


Rejoice for souls of kindred fire 

Are on the wing to join your choir ! " 

He said and, light as bridegrooms bound 

To their young loves, reclimb'd the steep 
And gain'd the Shrine his Chiefs stood round 

Their swords, as with instinctive leap, 
Together, at that cry accurst, 
Had from their sheaths, like sunbeams, burst. 
And hark ! again again it rings ; 
Near and more near its echoings 
Peal through the chasm oh ! who that then 
Had seen those listening warrior-men, 
With their swords grasp'd, their eyes of flame 
Tunfd on their Chief could doubt the shame, 
The indignant shame with which they thrill 
To hear those shouts and yet stand still ? 

He read their thoughts they were his own 

"What! while our arms can wield these blades, 
Shall we die tamely ? die alone ? 

Without one victim to our shades, 
One Moslem heart, where, buried deep, 
The sabre from its toil may sleep ? 
No (rod of IRAN'S burning skies! 
Thou scorn'st the inglorious sacrifice. 
No though of all earth's hope bereft, 
Life, swords, and vengeance still are left. 
We'll make yon valley's reeking caves 

Live in the awe-struck minds of men, 
Till tyrants shudder, when their slaves 

Tell of the GhelM'r's bloody glen. 
Follow, brave hearts! this pile remains 
Our refuge still from life and chains; 
But his the best, the holiest bed. 
Who sinks entoiub'd in Moslem dead!" 


Down the precipitous rocks they sprung, 
While vigor, more than human, strung 
Each arm and heart. The exulting foe 
Still through the dark defiles below, 
Track'd by his torches' lurid fire, 

Wound slow, as through GOLCONDA'S vale 294 
The mighty serpent, in his ire, 

Glides on with glittering, deadly trail. 
Xo torch the Ghebers need so well 
They know each mystery of the dell, 
So oft have, in their wanderings, 
Cross'd the wild race that round them dwell, 

The very tigers from their delves 
Look out, and let them pass, as things 

Untam'd and fearless like themselves ! 

There was a deep ravine, that lay 

Yet darkling in the Moslem's way ; 

Fit spot to make invaders rue 

The many fallen before the few. 

The torrents from that morning's sky 

Had fill'd the narrow chasm breast high, 

And, on each side, aloft and wild, 

Huge cliffs and toppling crags were pil'd, 

The guards with which young Freedom lines 

The pathways to her mountain-shrines. 

Here, at this pass, the scanty band 

Of IRAN'S last avengers stand ; 

Here wait, in silence like the dead, 

And listen for the Moslem's tread 

So anxiously, the carrion-bird 

Above them flaps his wing unheard ! 

They come that plunge into the water 
Gives signal for the work of slaughter. 


Now, Ghebers, now if e'er your blades 

Had point or prowess, prove them now 
Woe to the file that foremost wades ! 

They come a falchion greets each brow, 
And, as they tumble, trunk on trunk, 
Beneath the gory waters sunk, 
Still o'er their drowning bodies press 
New victims quick and numberless ; 
Till scarce an arm in HA FED'S band, 

So fierce their toil, hath power to stir, 
But listless from each crimson hand 

The sword hangs, clogg'd with massacre. 
Never was horde of tyrants met 
With bloodier welcome never yet 
To patriot vengeance hath the sword 
More terrible libations pour'd. 

All up the dreary, long ravine, 
By the red, murky glimmer seen 
Of half-quench'd brands that o'er the flood 
Lie scatter'd round and burn in blood, 
What ruin glares ! what carnage swims ! 
Heads, blazing turbans, quivering limbs, 
Lost swords that, dropp'd from man}- a hand, 
In that thick pool of slaughter stand ; 
Wretches who wading, half on fire 

From the toss'd brands that round them fly, 
'Twixt flood and flame in shrieks expire ; 

And some who, grasp'd by those that die, 
Sink woundless with them, smother'd o'er 
In their dead brethren's gushing gore! 

But vainly hundreds, thousands bleed, 
Still hundreds, thousands more succeed; 
Countless as tow'rds some flame at night 


The North's dark insects wing their flight. 

And quench or perish in its light, 

To this terrific spot they pour 

Till, bridg'd with Moslem bodies o'er, 

It bears aloft their slippery tread, 

And o'er the dying and the dead, 

Tremendous causeway ! on they pass. 

Then, hapless Ghebers, then, alas ! 

What hope was left for you ? for you, 

Whose yet warm pile of sacrifice 

Is smoking in their vengeful eyes ? 

Whose swords how keen, how fierce they knew, 

And burn with shame to find how few ? 

Crush'd down by that vast multitude, 

Some found their graves where first they stood ; 

While some with hardier struggle died, 

And still fought on by HAFED'S side, 

Who, fronting to the foe, trod back 

Tow'rds the high towers his gory track ; 

And, as a lion swept away 

By sudden swell of JORDAN'S pride 
From the wild covert where he lay, 295 

Long battles with the o'erwhelming tide, 
So fought he back with fierce delay, 
And kept both foes and fate at bay. 

But whither now ? their track is lost, 

Their prey escap'd guide, torches gone 

By torrent-beds and labyrinths crost, 
The scatter'd crowd rush blindly on 

" Curse on those tardy lights that wind," 

They panting cry, " so far behind ; 

Oh for a bloodhound's precious scent, 

To track the way the GTheber went ! " 


Vain wish confusedly along 

They rush, more desperate as more wrong : 

Till, wilder'd by the far-off lights, 

Yet glittering up those gloomy heights, 

Their footing, maz'd and lost, they miss, 

And down the darkling precipice 

Are dash'd into the deep abyss ; 

Or midway hang, impal'd on rocks, 

A banquet, yet alive, for flocks 

Of ravening vultures, while the dell 

Ke-echoes with each horrible yell. 

Those sounds the last, to vengeance dear, 
That e'er shall ring in HAFED'S ear, 
Now reach'd him, as aloft, alone, 
Upon the steep way breathless thrown, 
He lay beside his reeking blade, 

Resign'd, as if life's task were o'er, 
Its last blood-offering amply paid, 

And IRAN'S self could claim no more. 
One only thought, one lingering beam 
Now broke across his dizzy dream 
Of pain and weariness 'twas she, 

His heart's pure planet, shining yet 
Above the waste of memory, 

When all life's other lights were set. 
And never to his mind before 
Her image such enchantment wore. 
It seem'd as if each thought that stain'd, 

Each fear that ehill'd their loves, was past, 
And not one cloud of earth reinain'd 

Between him and her radiance east; 
As if to charms, before so bright, 

New grace from other worlds w;is given, 


And his soul saw her by the light 

Now breaking o'er itself from heaven ! 

A voice spoke near him 'twas the tone 

Of a lov'd friend, the only one 

Of all his warriors, left with life 

From that short night's tremendous strife. 

" And must we then, my Chief, die here ? 

Foes round us, and the Shrine so near ! " 

These words have rous'd the last remains 

Of life within him " What ! not yet 
Beyond the reach of Moslem chains ! " 

The thought could make e'en Death forget 
His icy bondage with a bound 
He springs, all bleeding, from the ground, 
And grasps his comrade's arm, now grown 
E'en feebler, heavier than his own, 
And up the painful pathway leads, 
Death gaining on each step he treads. 
Speed them, thou God, who heard'st their vow ! 
They mount they bleed oh, save them now ! 
The crags are red they've clamber'd o'er, 
The rock-weed's dripping with their gore ; 
Thy blade too, HAFED, false at length, 
Now breaks beneath thy tottering strength ! 
Haste, haste the voices of the Foe 
Come near and nearer from below 
One effort more thank Heaven ! 'tis past, 
They've gain'd the topmost steep at last. 
And now they touch the temple's walls, 

Now HAFED sees the Fire divine 
When, lo ! his weak, worn comrade falls 

Dead on the threshold of the Shrine. 
" Alas, brave soul, too quickly fled ! 

And must I leave thee withering here, 


The sport of every ruffian's tread, 

The mark for every coward's spear ? 
No, by yon altar's sacred beams ! " 
He cries, and, with a strength that seems 
Not of this world, uplifts the frame 
Of the fallen Chief, and tow'rds the flame 
Bears him along ; with death-damp hand 

The corpse upon the pyre he lays, 
Then lights the consecrated brand, 

And fires the pile, whose sudden blaze 
Like lightning bursts o'er OMAN'S Sea. 
" Now, Freedom's God ! I come to Thee," 
The youth exclaims, and with a smile 
Of triumph vaulting on the pile 
In that last effort, ere the fires 
Have harm'd one glorious limb, expires ! 

What shriek was that on OMAN'S tide ? 

It came from yonder drifting bark, 
That just hath caught upon her side 

The death-light and again is dark. 
It is th i bout ah, why delay 'd ? 
That bears the wretched Moslem maid; 
Confided to the watchful care 

Of a small veteran band, with whom 
Their generous Chieftain would not share 

The secret of his final doom, 
But hop'd when HINDA, safe and free, 

Was render'd to her father's eyes, 
Their pardon, full and prompt, would be 

The ransom of so dear a prixe. 
Unconscious, thus, of HAKKH'S fate, 
And proud to guard their beauteous freight, 
Scarce had they clear'd the surfy waves 
That foam around those frightful cuves. 


When the curst war-whoops, known so well, 
Came echoing from the distant dell 
Sudden each oar, upheld and still, 

Hung dripping o'er the vessel's side, 
And, driving at the current's will, 

They rock'd along the whispering tide ; 
While every eye, in mute dismay, 

Was tow'rd that fatal mountain turn'd, 
Where the dim altar's quivering ray 

As yet all lone and tranquil burn'd. 

Oh ! 'tis not, HIXDA, in the power 

Of Fancy's most terrific touch 
To paint thy pangs in that dread hour 

Thy silent agony 'twas such 
As those who feel could paint too well, 
But none e'er felt and lived to tell ! 
'Twas not alone the dreary state 
Of a lorn spirit crush'd by fate, 
When, though no more remains to dread^ 

The panic chill will not depart ; 
When, though the inmate Hope be dead, 

Her ghost still haunts the mouldering heart. 
No pleasures, hopes, affections gone, 
The wretch may bear, and yet live on, 
Like things, within the cold rock found 
Alive, when all's congeal'd around. 
But there's a blank repose in this, 
A calm stagnation, that were bliss 
To the keen, burning, harrowing pain, 
Now felt through all thy breast and brain; 
That spasm of terror, mute, intense, 
That breathless, agoniz'd suspense, 
From whose hot throb, whose deadly aching, 
The heart hath no relief but breaking ! 


Calm is the wave heaven's brilliant lights 

Reflected dance beneath the prow ; 
Time was when, on such lovely nights, 

She who is there, so desolate now, 
Could sit all cheerful, though alone, 

And ask no happier joy than seeing 
That starlight o'er the waters thrown 
No joy but that, to make her blest, 

And the fresh, buoyant sense of being, 
Which bounds in youth's yet careless breast, 
Itself a star, not borrowing light, 
But in its own glad essence bright. 
How different now ! but, hark, again 
The yell of havoc rings brave men ! 
In vain, with beating hearts, ye stand 
On the bark's edge in vain each hand 
Half draws the falchion from its sheath ; 

All's o'er in rust your blades may lie : 
He, at whose word they've scatter'd death, 

E'en now, this night, himself must die ! 
Well may ye look to yon dim tower, 

And ask, and wondering guess what means 
The battle-cry at this dead hour 

Ah ! she could tell you she, who leans 
Unheeded there, pale, sunk, aghast, 
With brow against the dew-oold mast; 

Too well she knows her more than life, 
Her soul's first idol and its last, 

Lies bleeding in that murderous strife. 

But see what moves upon the height ? 
Some signal ! 'tis a torch's light. 

What bodes its solitary glare ? 
In gasping silence tow'rd the Shrine 
All eyes are turn'd thine, HINDA, thine 


Fix their last fading life-beams there. 
'Twas but a moment fierce and high 
The death-pile blaz'd into the sky, 
And far away, o'er rock and flood, 

Its melancholy radiance sent ; 
While HAFED, like a vision, stood 
Reveal'd before the burning pyre, 
Tall, shadowy, like a Spirit of Fire 

Shrin'd in its own grand element ! 
" 'Tis he ! " the shuddering maid exclaims, 

But, while she speaks, he's seen no more ; 
^ High burst in air the funeral flames, 

And IRAN'S hopes and hers are o'er ! 
One wild, heart-broken shriek she gave ; 

Then sprung, as if to reach that blaze, 

"Where still she fix'd her dying gaze, 
And, gazing, sunk into the wave, 
Deep, deep, where never care or pain 
Shall reach her innocent heart again ! 

Farewell farewell to thee, ARABY'S daughter ! 

(Thus warbled a PERI beneath the dark sea,) 
No pearl ever lay, under OMAN'S green water, 

More pure in its shell than thy spirit in thee. 

Oh ! fair as the sea-flower close to thee growing, 
How light was thy heart till Love's witchery came, 

Like the wind of the south 296 o'er a summer lute blowing, 
And hush'd all its music, and wither'd its frame 1 

But long, upon ARABY'S green sunny highlands, 
Shall maids and their lovers remember the doom 

Of her, who lies sleeping among the Pearl Islands, 
With nought but the sea-star 297 to light up her tomb. 


And still, when the merry date-season is burning, 298 
And calls to the palm-groves the young and the old, 

The happiest there, from their pastime returning 
At sunset, will weep when thy story is told. 

The young village-maid, when with flowers she dresses 
Her dark flowing hair for some festival day, 

Will think of thy fate till, neglecting her tresses, 
She mournfully turns from the mirror away. 

Nor shall IRAN, belov'd of her Hero ! forget thee 
Though tyrants watch over her tears as they start. 

Close, close by the side of that Hero she'll set thee, 
Embalm'd in the innermost shrine of her heart. 

Farewell be it ours to embellish thy pillow 

With everything beauteous that grows in the deep ; 

Each flower of the rock and each gem of the billow 
Shall sweeten thy bed and illumine thy sleep. 

Around thee shall glisten the loveliest amber 
That ever the sorrowing sea-bird has wept ; 2M 

With many a shell, in whose hollow-wreath'd chamber 
We, Peris of Ocean, by moonlight have slept. 

We'll dive where the gardens of coral lie darkling, 
And plant all the rosiest steins at thy head ; 

We'll seek where the sands of the Caspian ao are spark- 
And gather their gold to strew over thy bed. 

Farewell farewell until I'ity's sweet fountain 
Is lost in the hearts of the fair and tin- brave, 

They'll weep for the Chieftain who died on that mountain, 
They'll weep for the Maiden who sleeps in this wavw. 


THE singular placidity with which FADLADEEN had lis 
tened, during the latter part of this obnoxious story, 
surprised the Princess and FERAMORZ exceedingly ; and 
even inclined towards him the hearts of these unsus- 
picious young persons, who little knew the source of a 
complacency so marvellous. The truth was, he had 
been organizing, for the last few days, a most notable 
plan of persecution against the Poet, in consequence of 
some passages that had fallen from him on the second 
evening of recital, which appeared to this worthy 
Chamberlain to contain language and principles, for 
which nothing short of the summary criticism of the 
Chabuk 301 would be advisable. It was his intention, 
therefore, immediately on their arrival at Cashmere, to 
give information to the King of Bucharia of the very 
dangerous sentiments of his minstrel ; and if, unfortu- 
nately, that monarch did not act with suitable vigor on 
the occasion, (that is, if he did not give the Chabuk to 
FERAMORZ, and a place to FADLADEEN,) there would be 
an end, he feared, of all legitimate government in 
Bucharia. He could not help, however, auguring better 
both for himself and the cause of potentates in general ; 
and it was the pleasure arising from these mingled 
anticipations that diffused such unusual satisfaction 
through his features, and made his eyes shine out, like 
poppies of the desert, over the wide and lifeless wilder- 
ness of that countenance. 

Having decided upon the Poet's chastisement in this 
manner, he thought it but humanity to spare him the 
minor tortures of criticism. Accordingly, when they 
assembled the following evening in the pavilion, and 


LALLA ROOKH was expecting to see all the beauties of 
her bard melt away, one by one, in the acidity of criti- 
cism, like pearls in the cup of the Egyptian queen, he 
agreeably disappointed her, by merely saying, with an 
ironical smile, that the merits of such a poem dererved 
to be tried at a much higher tribunal ; and then suddenly 
passed off into a panegyric upon all Mussulman sover- 
eigns, more particularly his august and Imperial master, 
Aurungzebe, the wisest and best of the descendants 
of Timur, who, among other great things he had done 
for mankind, had given to him, FADLADEEN, the very 
profitable posts of Betel-carrier and Taster of Sherbets 
to the Emperor, Chief Holder of the Girdle of Beautiful 
Forms, 802 and Grand Xazir, or Chamberlain of the Haram. 

They were now not far from that Forbidden River, 808 
beyond which no pure Hindoo can pass ; and were repos- 
ing for a time in the rich valley of Hussun Abdaul, 
which had always been a favorite resting-place of the 
Emperors in their annual migrations to Cashmere. Here 
often had the Light of the Faith, Jehan-Gtiire, been 
known to wander with his beloved and beautiful Nour- 
mahal; and here would LALLA ROOKH have been happy 
to remain forever, giving up the throne of Bucharia and 
the world for FKRAMOKZ and love in this sweet, lonely 
valley. But the time was now fast approaching when 
she must see him no longer, or, what was still worse, 
behold him with eyes whose every look Ix-longed to 
another; and then 1 was a melancholy preciousness in 
these last moments, which made her heart cling to them 
as it would to life. During the latter part of the journey, 
indeed, she had sunk into a deep sadness, from which 
nothing but the presence of the young minstrel could 
awake her. Like those lamps in tombs, which only 
light up when tbe air is admitted, it was only at his 


approach that her eyes became smiling and animated. 
But here, in this dear valley, every moment appeared an 
age of pleasure ; she saw him all day, and was, there- 
fore, all day happy, resembling, she often thought, 
that people of Zinge, who attribute the unfading cheer- 
fulness they enjoy to one genial star that rises nightly 
over their heads. 804 

The whole party, indeed, seemed in their liveliest 
mood during the few days they passed in this delightful 
solitude. The young attendants of the Princess, who 
were here allowed a much freer range than they could 
safely be indulged with in a less sequestered place, 
ran wild among the gardens and bounded through the 
meadows, lightly as young roes over the aromatic plains 
of Tibet. While FADLADEEX, in addition to the spirit- 
ual comfort derived by him from a pilgrimage to the 
tomb of the Saint from whom the valley is named, had 
also opportunities of indulging, in a small way, his taste 
for victims, by putting to death some hundreds of those 
unfortunate little lizards 305 which all pious Mussulmans 
make it a point to kill ; taking for granted, that the 
manner in which the creature hangs its head is meant as 
a mimicry of the attitude in which the Faithful say their 

About two miles from Hussun Abdaul were those 
Koyal Gardens 806 which had grown beautiful under the 
care of so many lovely eyes, and were beautiful still, 
though those eyes could see them no longer. This place, 
with its flowers and its holy silence, interrupted only by 
the dipping of the wings of birds in its marble basins 
filled with the pure water of those hills, was to LALLA 
EOOKH all that her heart could fancy of fragrance, cool- 
ness, and almost heavenly tranquillity. As the Prophet 


said of Damascus, "It was too delicious;" 807 and here, 
in listening to the sweet voice of FERAMOKZ, or reading 
in his eyes what yet he never dared to tell her, the most 
exquisite moments of her whole life were passed. One 
evening, when they had been talking of the Sultana 
Nourmahal, the Light of the Haram, 808 who had so often 
wandered among these flowers, and fed with her own 
hands, in those marble basins, the small shining fishes of 
which she was so fond, 809 the youth, in order to delay 
the moment of separation, proposed to recite a short 
story, or rather rhapsody, of which this adored Sultana 
was the heroine. It related, he said, to the reconcile- 
ment of a sort of lovers' quarrel which took place 
between her and the Emperor during a Feast of Hoses 
at Cashmere ; and would remind the Princess of that 
difference between Haroun-al-Raschid and his fair mis- 
tress Marida 810 which was so happily made up by the 
soft strains of the musician Moussali. As the story was 
chiefly to be told in song, and FEKAMORZ had unluckily 
forgotten his own lute in the valley, he borrowed the 
vina of LALLA KOOKH'S little Persian slave, and thus 
began : 


WHO has not heard of the vale of CASHMERE, 

With its roses the brightest that earth ever gave, 311 

Its temples, and grottos, and fountains as clear 

As the love-lighted eyes that hang over their wave ? 

Oh ! to see it at sunset, when warm o'er the Lake 

Its splendor at parting a summer eve throws, 
Like a bride, full of blushes, when ling'ring to take 

A last look of her mirror at night ere she goes ! 
When the shrines through the foliage are gleaming 

half shown, 

And each hallows the hour by some rites of its own. 
Here the music of pray'r from a minaret swells, 

Here the Magian his urn, full of perfume, is 

And here, at the altar, a zone of sweet bells 

Round the waist of some fair Indian dancer is 

ringing. 812 

Or to see it by moonlight, when mellowly shines 
The light o'er its palaces, gardens, and shrines ; 
When the Avater-falls gleam, like a quick fall of stars, 
And the nightingale's hymn from the Isle of Chenars 
Is broken by laughs and light echoes of feet 
From the cool, shining walks where the young people 


Or at morn, when the magic of daylight awakes 
A new wonder each minute, as slowly it breaks, 


Hills, cupolas, fountains, call'd forth every one 
Out of darkness, as if but just born of the Sun. 
When the Spirit of Fragrance is up with the day, 
From his Harain of night-flowers stealing away ; 
And the wind, full of wantonness, woos like a lover 
The young aspen-trees, 818 till they tremble all over. 
"When the East is as warm as the light of first hopes, 

And Day, with his banner of radiance unfurl'd, 
Shines in through the mountainous portal 814 that opes, 

Sublime, from that Valley of bliss to the world ! 

But never yet, by night or day, 
In dew of spring or summer's ray, 
Did the sweet Valley shine so gay 
As now it shines all love and light, 
Visions by day and feasts by night ! 
A happier smile illumes each brow, 

With quicker spread each heart uncloses, 
And all is ecstasy for now 

The Valley holds its Feast of Roses ; 816 
The joyous Time, when pleasures pour 
Profusely round, and, in their shower, 
Hearts open, like the Season's Rose, 

The Flow'ret of a hundred leaves, 81 * 
Expanding while the dew-fall flows, 

And every leaf its balm receives. 

'Twos when the hour of evening came 

Upon the Lake, serene and cool, 
When Day had hid his sultry flame 

Behind tin- palms of BxRAMOULE,* 11 
When maids Ix-gan to lift their heads, 
Hefresh'd from their emhroider'd Ixxls, 
Where they had slept the sun away, 
And wak'd to moonlight and to play. 


All were abroad the busiest hive 

On BELA'S 818 hills is less alive, 

When saffron-beds are full in flower, 

Than look'd the Valley in that hour. 

A thousand restless torches play'd 

Through every grove and island shade ; 

A thousand sparkling lamps were set 

On every dome and minaret ; 

And fields and pathways, far and near, 

Were lighted by a blaze so clear, 

That you could see, in wandering round, 

The smallest rose-leaf on the ground. 

Yet did the maids and matrons leave 

Their veils at home, that brilliant eve ; 

And there were glancing eyes about, 

And cheeks, that would not dare shine out 

In open day, but thought they might 

Look lovely then, because 'twas night. 

And all were free, and wandering, 

And all exclaim'd to all they met, 
That never did the summer bring 

So gay a Feast of Koses yet ; 
The moon had never shed a light 

So clear as that which bless'd them there; 
The roses ne'er shone half so bright, 

Nor they themselves look'd half so fair. 

And what a wilderness of flowers ! 
It seem'd as though from all the bowers 
And fairest fields of all the year, 
The mingled spoil were scatter'd here. 
The Lake, too, like a garden breathes, 

With the rich buds that o'er it lie, 
As if a shower of fairy wreaths 

Had fall'n upon it from the sky ! 


And then the sounds of joy, the beat 

Of tabors and of dancing feet ; 

The minaret-crier's chant of glee 

Sung from his lighted gallery, 819 

And answer'd by a ziraleet 

From neighboring Haram, wild and sweet ; 

The merry laughter, echoing 

From gardens, where the silken swing 82 

Wafts some delighted girl above 

The top leaves of the orange grove ; 

Or, from those infant groups at play 

Among the tents 821 that line the way, 

Flinging, unaw'd by slave or mother, 

Handfuls of roses at each other. 
Then, the sounds from the Lake, the low whispering 
in boats, 

As they shoot through the moonlight ; the dipping 

of oars, 
A.nd the wild, airy warbling that everywhere floats, 

Through the groves, round the islands, as if all the 


Like those of KATHAY, utter'd music, and gave 
An answer in song to the kiss of each wave. 8 - 2 
Hut the gentlest of all are those sounds, full of feeling, 
That soft from the lute of some lover are stealing, 
Some lover, who knows all the heart-touching power 
Of a lute and a sigh in this magical hour. 
Oh ! best of delights as it everywhere is 
To l>c near the lov'd One, what a rapture is his 
Who in moonlight and music thus sweetly may glide 
O'er the Lake of CASIIMKKK, with that One by his side! 
If woman can make the worst wilderness dear, 
Think, think what a Heaven she must make of CASH- 


So felt the magnificent Son of A< u.ut, 8:a 


When from power and pomp and the trophies of war 
He flew to that Valley, forgetting them all 
With the Light of the Hararn, his young NOURMAIIAL, 
When free and uncrown'd as the Conqueror rov'd 
By the banks of that Lake, with his only belov'd, 
He saw, in the wreaths she would playfully snatch 
From the hedges, a glory his crown could not match, 
And preferr'd in his heart the least ringlet that curl'd 
Down her exquisite neck to the throne of the world. 

There's a beauty, forever unchangingly bright, 
Like the long, sunny lapse of a summer-day's light. 
Shining on, shining on, by no shadow made tender, 
Till Love falls asleep in its sameness of splendor. 
This was not the beauty oh, nothing like this, 
That to young NOURMAHAL gave such magic of bliss ! 
But that loveliness, ever in motion, which plays 
Like the light upon autumn's soft shadowy days, 
Now here and now there, giving warmth as it flies 
From the lip to the cheek, from the cheek to the eyes ; 
Now melting in mist and now breaking in gleams, 
Like the glimpses a saint hath of Heav'n in his 


When pensive, it seein'd as if that very grace, 
That charm of all others, was born with her face ! 
And when angry, for e'en in the tranquillest climes 
Light breezes will ruffle the blossoms sometimes 
The short, passing anger but seem'd to awaken 
New beauty, like flowers that are sweetest when shaken. 
If tenderness touch'd her, the dark of her eye 
At once took a darker, a heavenlier dye, 
From the depth of whose shadow, like holy revealings 
From innermost shrines, came the light of her feelings. 
Then her mirth oh ! 'twas sportive as ever took wing 
From the heart with a burst, like the wild-bird in spring ; 


Illum'd by a wit that would fascinate sages, 
Yet playful as Peris just loos'd from their cages. 824 
While her laugh, full of life, without any control 
P>ut the sweet one of gracefulness, rung from her soul ; 
And where it most sparkled no glance could discover, 
In lip, cheek, or eyes, for she brighten' d all over, 
Like any fair lake that the breeze is upon, 
When it breaks into dimples and laughs in the sun. 
Such, such were the peerless enchantments that gave 
NOURMAHAL the proud Lord of the East for her slave : 
And though bright was his Haram, a living parterre 
Of the flowers 826 of this planet though treasures 

were there, 
For which SOLIMAN'S self might have giv'n all the 


That the navy from OPHIR e'er wing'dto his shore, 
Yet dim before her were the smiles of them all, 
And the Light of his Haram was young NOURMAIIAL ! 

But where is she now, this night of joy, 
When bliss is every heart's employ ? 

When all around her is so bright, 
So like the visions of a trance, 
That one might think, who came by chance 

Into the Vale this happy night, 

He saw that City of Delight 829 
In Fairy-land whose streets and towers 
Are made of gems and light and flowers ! 
Where is the lov'd Sultana '.' where. 
When mirth brings out the young and fair, 
Dws she, the fairest, hide her brow, 
In melancholy stillness now ? 
Alas! how light a cause may move 
Dissension between hearts that love ! 
Hearts that the world in vain had tried, 


And sorrow but more closely tied ; 

That stood the storm, when waves were rough, 

Yet in a sunny hour fall off, 

Like ships that have gone down at sea, 

When heaven was all tranquillity ! 

A something, light as air a look, 

A word unkind or wrongly taken 
Oh ! love, that tempests never shook, 

A breath, a touch like this hath shaken. 
And ruder words will soon rush in 
To spread the breach that words begin ; 
And eyes forget the gentle ray 
They wore in courtship's smiling day ; 
And voices lose the tone that shed 
A tenderness round all they said; 
Till fast declining, one by one, 
The sweetnesses of love are gone, 
And hearts, so lately mingled, seem 
Like broken clouds, or like the stream, 
That smiling left the mountain's brow 

As though its waters ne'er could sever, 
Yet, ere it reach the plain below, 

Breaks into floods, that part forever. 
Oh, you, that have the charge of Love, 

Keep him in rosy bondage bound, 
As in the Fields of Bliss above 

He sits, with flow'rets fetter'd round ; 827 
Loose not a tie that round him clings, 
Nor ever let him use his wings ; 
For e'en an hour, a minute's flight 
Will rob the plumes of half their light : 
Like that celestial bird, whose nest 

Is found beneath far Eastern skies, 
Whose wings, though radiant when at rest, 

Lose all their glory when he flies 1 828 


Some difference, of this dangerous kind, 

By which, though light, the links that bind 

The fondest hearts may soon be riven ; 

Some shadow in Love's summer heaven, 

Which, though a fleecy speck at first, 

May yet in awful thunder burst ; 

Such cloud it is that now hangs over 

The heart of the Imperial Lover, 

And far hath banish'd from his sight 

His NOURMAHAL, his Haram's Light ! 

Hence is it, on this happy night, 

When Pleasure through the fields and groves 

Has let loose all her world of loves, 

And every heart has found its own, 

He wanders, joyless and alone, 

And weary as that bird of Thrace 

Whose pinion knows no resting-place. 829 

In vain the loveliest cheeks and syes 

This Eden of the Earth supplies 

Come crowding round the cheeks are pale, 
The eyes are dim : though rich the spot 
With every flow'r this earth has got, 

What is it to the nightingale, 
If there his darling rose is not? 880 
In vain the Valley's smiling throng 
Worship him, as he moves along ; 
Hi- heeds them not one smile of hers 
Is worth a world of worshippers. 
They but the Star's adorers are, 
She i.s the Heav'n that lights the Star I 

Hence is it, too, that NoURMAHAL, 

Amid the luxuries of this hour, 
Far from the joyous festival, 

Sits in her own sequester'd l>ower, 


With no one near, to soothe or aid, 
But that inspir'd and wondrous maid, 
NAMOUNA, the Ench? -ress ; one, 
O'er whom his race tne golden sun 
For unremember'd years has run, 
Yet never saw her blooming brow 
Younger or fairer than 'tis now. 
Nay, rather, as the west wind's sigh 
Freshens the flower it passes by, 
Time's wing but seem'd, in stealing o'er, 
To leave her lovelier than before. 
Yet on her smiles a sadness hung, 
And when, as oft, she spoke or sung 
Of other worlds, there came a light 
From her dark eyes so strangely bright, 
That all believ'd nor man nor earth 
Were conscious of NAMOUXA'S birth ! 
All spells and talismans she knew, 

From the great Mantra, 881 which ai-ound 
The Air's sublimer Spirits drew, 

To the gold gems 832 of AFRIC, bound 
Upon the wandering Arab's arm, 
To keep him from the Siltim's 888 harm. 
And she had pledg'd her powerful art, 
Pledg'd it with all the zeal and heart 
Of one who knew, though high her sphere, 
What 'twas to lose a love so dear, 
To find some spell that should recall 
Her Selim's 834 smile to NOURMAHAL ! 

'Twas midnight through the lattice, wreath'd 
With woodbine, many a perfume breath'd 
From plants that wake when others sleep, 
From timid jasmine buds, that keep 
Their odor to themselves all day, 


But, when the sun-light dies away, 
Let the delicious secret out 
To every breeze that roams about ; 
When thus NAMOUNA : " Tis the hour 
That scatters spells on herb and flower, 
And garlands might be gather'd now, 
That, twin'd around the sleeper's brow, 
Would make him dream of such delights, 
Such miracles and dazzling sights, 
As Genii of the Sun behold, 
At evening, from their tents of gold, 
Upon the horizon where they play 
Till twilight comes, and, ray by ray, 
Their sunny mansions melt away. 
Now, too, a chaplet might be wreath'd 
Of buds o'er which the moon has breath'd, 
Which worn by her, whose love has stray'd, 

Might bring some Peri from the skies, 
Some sprite, whose very soul is made 

Of flow'rets' breaths and lovers' sighs, 

And who might tell " 

"For me, for me," 
Cried NOURMAHAL impatiently, 
"Oh ! twine that wreath for me to-night." 
Then, rapidly, witli foot as light 
As the young musk-roe's, out she flew, 
To cull each shining leaf that grew 
Beneath the moonlight's hallowing beams, 
For this enchanted Wreath of Dreams. 
Anemones and Seas of Gold, 886 

And new-blown lilies of the river, 
And those sweet flow'rets that unfold 

Their buds on CAMADEVA'S quiver;* 8 * 
The tuberose, with her silvery light, 

That in the Gardens of Malay 


Is call'd the Mistress of the Night, 887 
So like a bride, scented and bright, 

She comes out when the sun's away ; 
Amaranths, such as crown the maids 
That wander through ZAMARA'S shades ; 888 
And the white moon-flower, as it shows, 
On SEREXDIB'S high crags, to those 
Who near the isle at evening sail, 
Scenting her clove-trees in the gale ; 
In short, all flow'rets and all plants, 

From the divine Ainrita tree, 389 
That blesses heaven's inhabitants 

With fruits of immortality, 
Down to the basil tuft, 840 that waves 
Its fragrant blossom over graves, 

And to the humble rosemary, 
Whose sweets so thanklessly are shed 
To scent the desert 841 and the dead : 
All in that garden bloom, and all 
Are gather'd by young NOURMAHA.L, 
Who heaps her baskets with the flowers 

And leaves, till they can hold no more ; 
Then to KAMOUXA flies, and showers 

Upon her lap the shining store, 

With what delight the Enchantress views 

So many buds, bath'd with the dews 

And beams of that bless'd hour ! her glance 

Spoke something, past all mortal pleasures. 
As, in a kind of holy trance, 

She hung above those fragrant treasures, 
Bending to drink their balmy airs, 
As if she mix'd her soul with theirs. 
And 'twas, indeed, the perfume shed 
From flow'rs and scented flame, that fed 


Her charmed life for none had e'er 
Beheld her taste of mortal fare, 
Nor ever in aught earthly dip, 
But the morn's dew, her roseate lip. 
Fill'd with the cool, inspiring smell, 
The Enchantress now begins her spell, 
Thus singing as she winds and weaves 
In mystic form the glittering leaves : 

I know where the wing'd visions dwell 

That around the night-bed play ; 
I know each herb and flow'ret's bell, 
Where they hide their wings by day. 
Then hasten we, maid, 
To twine our braid, 
To-morrow the dreams and flowers will fade. 

The image of love, that nightly flies 

To visit the bashful maid, 
Steals from the jasmine flower, that sighs 

Its soul, like her, in the shade. 
The dream of a future, happier hour, 

That alights on misery's brow, 
Springs out of the silvery almond-flower, 

That blooms on a leafless lM>ugh. Ma 
Then hasten we, maid, 
To twine our braid, 
To-morrow the dreams and flowers will fade. 

The visions, that oft to worldly eyes 

The glittt-r of mines unfold, 
Inhabit tin* mountain-herb,* 41 that dyes 

The tooth of the fawn like gold. 


The phantom shapes oh touch not them I 

That appal the murderer's sight, 
Lurk in the fleshly mandrake's stem, 
That shrieks, when pluck'd at night I 
Then hasten we, maid, 
To twine our braid, 
To-morrow the dreams and flowers will fade. 

The dream of the injur'd, patient mind, 

That smiles at the wrongs of men, 
Is found in the bruis'd and wounded rind 
Of the cinnamon, sweetest then. 
Then hasten we, maid, 
To twine our braid, 
To-morrow the dreams and flowers will fade. 

No sooner was the flowery crown 

Plac'd on her head, than sleep came down, 

Gently as nights of summer fall, 

Upon the lids of NOURMAHAL ; 

And, suddenly, a tuneful breeze, 

As full of small, rich harmonies 

As ever wind, that o'er the tents 

Of AzAB 344 blew, was full of scents, 

Steals on her ear, and floats and swells, 

Like the first air of morning creeping 
Into those wreathy, Ked-Sea shells, 

Where Love himself, of old, lay sleeping ; * 46 
And now a Spirit form'd, 'twould seem, 

Of music and of light, so fair, 
So brilliantly his features beam, 

And such a sound is in the air 
Of sweetness when he waves his wings, 
Hovers around her, and thus sings : 


From CHINDARA'S 848 warbling fount I come, 

Call'd by that moonlight garland's spell ; 
From CHINDARA'S fount, my fairy home, 

Where in music, morn and night, I dwell : 
Where lutes in the air are heard about, 

And voices are singing the whole day long, 
And every sigh the heart breathes out 
Is turn'd, as it leaves the lips, to song ! 
Hither I come 
From my fairy home ; 
And if there's a magic in Music's strain, 
I swear by the breath 
Of that moonlight wreath, 
Thy Lover shall sigh at thy feet again. 

For mine is the lay that lightly floats, 
And mine are the murmuring, dying notes, 
That fall as soft as snow on the sea, 
And melt in the heart as instantly : 
And the passionate strain that, deeply going, 

Refines the bosom it trembles through, 
As the musk-wind, over the water blowing, 

Ruffles the wave, but sweetens it too. 

Mine is the charm, whose mystic sway 
The Spirits of past Delight obey; 
Let but the tuneful talisman sound, 
And they come, like Genii, hovering round. 
And mine is the gentle song that bears 

From soul to soul, the wishes of love, 
As a bird, that wafts through genial airs 

The cinnamon-seed from grove to grove. 141 

'Tis I that mingle in one sweet measure 

The past, the present, and future of pleasure ; *** 


When Memory links the tone that is gone 
With the blissful tone that's still in the ear ; 

And Hope from a heavenly note flies on 
To a note more heavenly still that is near. 

The warrior's heart, when touch'd by me, 
Can as downy soft and as yielding be 
As his own white plume, that high amid death 
Through the field has shone yet moves with a 

breath ! 
And oh ! how the eyes of Beauty glisten, 

When Music has reach'd her inward soul, 
Like the silent stars, that wink and listen 
While Heaven's eternal melodies roll. 
So, hither I come 
From my fairy home ; 
And if there's a magic in Music's strain, 
I swear by the breath 
Of that moonlight wreath, 
Thy Lover shall sigh at thy feet again. 

'Tis dawn at least that earlier dawn, 
Whose glimpses are again withdrawn, 8 * 9 
As if the morn had wak'd, and then 
Shut close her lids of light again. 
And NOURMAHAL is up and trying 

The wonders of her lute, whose strings 
Oh, bliss ! now murmur like the sighing 

From that ambrosial Spirit's wings. 
And then, her voice 'tis more than human 

Never, till now, had it been given 
To lips of any mortal woman 

To utter notes so fresh from heaven; 
Sweet as the breath of angel sighs, 


When angel sighs are most divine. 
" Oh ! let it last till night," she cries, 

" And he is more than ever mine." 
And hourly she renews the lay, 

So fearful lest its heavenly sweetness 
Should, ere the evening, fade away, 

For things so heavenly have such fleetnese ! 
But, far from fading, it but grows 
Richer, diviner as it flows ; 
Till rapt she dwells on every string, 

And pours again each sound along, 
Like echo, lost and languishing, 

In love with her own wondrous song. 

That evening, (trusting that his soul 

Might be from haunting love releas'd 
By mirth, by music, and the bowl,) 

The Imperial SELIM held a feast 
In his magnificent Shalimar : 85 
In whose Saloons, when the first star 
Of evening o'er the waters trembled, 
The Valley's loveliest all assembled ; 
All the bright creatures that, like dreams, 
Glide through its foliage, and drink beams 
Of l>eauty from its founts and streams; 851 
And all those wandering minstrel-maids, 
Who leave how can they leave ? the shades 
Of that dear Valley, and are found 

Singing in (iardens of the South 852 
Those songs, that ne'er so sweetly sound 

As from a young Cashmerian's mouth. 
There, too, the Haram's inmates smile; 

Maids from the West, with sun-bright hair, 
And from the Garden of the NILE, 

Delicate as the roses there ; *** 


Daughters of Love from CYPRUS' rocks, 
With Paphian diamonds in their locks ; 854 
Light PERI forms, such as there are 
On the gold meads of CANDAHAR ; 855 
And they, before whose sleepy eyes, 

In their own bright Kathaian bowers, 
Sparkle such rainbow butterflies, 

That they might fancy the rich flowers, 
That round them in the sun lay sighing, 
Had been by magic all set flying. 856 

Everything young, everything fair 
From East and West is blushing there, 
Except except oh, NOURMAHAL ! 
Thou loveliest, dearest of them all, 
The one whose smile shone out alone, 
Amidst a world the only one ; 
Whose light, among so many lights, 
Was like that star on starry nights, 
The seaman singles from the sky, 
To steer his bark forever by ! 
Thou wert not there so SELIM thought, 

And everything seem'd drear without thee ; 
But ah ! thou wert, thou wert, and brought 

Thy charm of song all fresh about thee. 
Mingling unnoticed Avith a band 
Of lutanists from many a land, 
And veil'd by such a mask as shades 
The features of young Arab maids, 857 
A mask that leaves but one eye free, 
To do its best in witchery, 
She rov'd, with beating heart, around, 

And waited, trembling, for the minute, 
When she might try if still the sound 

Of her lov'd lute had magic in it. 


The board was spread with fruits and wine ; 
With grapes of gold, like those that shine 
On CASEIN'S hills; M8 pomegranates full 

Of melting sweetness, and the pears, 
And sunniest apples 869 that CAUBUL 

In all its thousand gardens 860 bears; 
Plantains, the golden and the green, 
MALAYA'S nectar'd mangusteen; M1 
Prunes of BOKARA, and sweet nuts 

From the far groves of SAMARCAND, 
And BASRA dates, and apricots, 

Seed of the Sun, 862 from IRAN'S land ; 
With rich conserve of Visna cherries, 86 * 
Of orange flowers, and of those berries 
That, wild and fresh, the young gazelles 
Feed on in ERAC'S rocky dells. 864 
All these in richest vases smile, 

In baskets of pure santal-wood, 
And urns of porcelain from that isle 8M 

Sunk underneath the Indian flood, 
Whence oft the lucky diver brings 
Vases to grace the halls of kings. 
Wines, too, of every clime and hue, 
Around their liquid lustre threw ; 
AnilxT Rosolli, 86 * the bright dew 
From vineyards of the Green-Sea gushing; 187 
And SHIRAZ wine, that richly ran 

As if that jewel, large and rare, 
The ruby for which Krui.Ai-KiiAX 
Offer'd a city's wealth, 868 was blushing 

Melted within the goblets there ! 

And amply SK.I.IM quaffs of each, 

And seems resulv'd the flood shall reach 

His inward heart, shedding around 


A genial deluge, as they run, 
That soon shall leave no spot undrown'd, 

lor Love to rest his wings upon. 
He little knew how well the boy 

Can float upon a goblet's streams, 
Lighting them with his smile of joy; 

As bards have seen him in their dreams, 
Down the blue GANGES laughing glide 

Upon a rosy lotus wreath, 369 
Catching new lustre from the tide 

That with his image shone beneath. 

But what are cups, without the aid 

Of song to speed them as they flow ? 
And see a lovely Georgian maid, 

With all the bloom, the freshen'd glow 
Of her own country maidens' looks, 
When warm they rise from TEFLIS' brooks ; 87 
And with an eye, whose restless ray, 

Full, floating, dark oh, he, who knows 
His heart is weak, of Heaven should pray 

To guard him from such eyes as those ! 
With a voluptuous wildness flings 
Her snowy hand across the strings 
Of a syrinda, 871 and thus sings : 

Come hither, come hither by night and by day, 
We linger in pleasures that never are gone ; 

Like the waves of the summer, as one dies away, 
Another as sweet and as shining comes on. 

And the love that is o'er, in expiring, gives birth 
To a new one as warm, as unequall'd in bliss ; 

And, oh ! if there be an Elysium on earth, 
It is this, it is this. 872 


Here maidens are sighing, and fragrant their sigh 

As the flower of the Amra just op'd by a bee ; 878 
And precious their tears as that rain from the sky, 874 

Which turns into pearls as it falls in the sea. 
Oh! think what the kiss and the smile must be 


When the sigh and the tear are so perfect in bliss, 
And own if there be an Elysium on earth, 
It is this, it is this. 

Here sparkles the nectar, that, hallow'd by love, 
Could draw down those angels of old from their 


Who for wine of this earth 876 left the fountains above, 
And forgot heaven's stars for the eyes we have here. 
And, bless'd with the odor our goblet gives forth, 

What Spirit the sweets of his Eden would miss ? 
For, oh ! if there be an Elysium on earth, 
It is this, it is this. 

The Georgian's song was scarcely mute, 

When the same measure, sound for sound, 
Was caught up by another lute, 

And so divinely breathed around, 
That all stood hush'd and wondering, 

And turn'd and look'd into the air, 
As if they thought to see the wing 

Of IsKAKii., 876 the Angel, there; 
So powerfully on every soul 
That new, enchanted measure stole. 
While now a voice, sweet as the noto 
Of the rharmM lute, was heard to float 
Along its chords, and so entwine 

Its sounds with theirs, that none knew whether 


The voice or lute was most divine, 

So wondrously they went together : 

There's a bliss beyond all that the minstrel has told, 
When two, that are link'd in one heavenly tie, 

With heart never changing, and brow never cold, 
Love on through all ills, and love on till they die ! 

One hour of a passion so sacred is worth 

Whole ages of heartless and wandering bliss ; 

And, oh ! if there be an Elysium on earth, 
It is this, it is this. 

'Twas not the air, 'twas not the words, 
But that deep magic in the chords 
And in the lips, that gave such power 
As Music knew not till that hour. 
At once a hundred voices said, 
" It is the mask'd Arabian maid ! " 
While SELIM, who had felt the strain 
Deepest of any, and had lain 
Some minutes rapt, as in a trance, 

After the fairy sounds were o'er, 
Too inly touch'd for utterance, 

Now motion'd with his hand for more : 

Fly to the desert, fly with me, 
Our Arab tents are rude for thee ; 
But, oh ! the choice what heart can doubt, 
Of tents with love, or thrones without ? 


Our rocks are rough^Dut smiling there 
The acacia waves her yellow hair, 
Lonely and sweet, nor lov'd the less 
For flowering in a wilderness. 

Our sands are bare, but down their slope 
The silvery-footed antelope 
As gracefully and gayly springs 
As o'er the marble courts of kings. 

Then come thy Arab maid will be 
The lov'd and lone acacia-tree, 
The antelope, whose feet shall bless 
With their light sound thy loneliness. 

Oh ! there are looks and tones that dart 
An instant sunshine through the heart, 
As it' the soul that minute caught 
Some treasure it through life had sought ; 

As if the very lips and eyes, 
Predestin'd to have all our sighs, 
And never be forgot again, 
Sparkled and spoke before us then! 

So came thy every glance and tone, 
When first on me they breathed and shone ; 
New, as if brought from other spheres, 
Yet welcome as if loved for years. 

Then fly with mo, if thou hast known 
No other flame, nor falsely thrown 
A gem away, that thou hadst sworn 
Should ever in thv heart be worn. 


Come, if the love thou hast for me 
Is pure and fresh as mine for thee, 
Fresh as the fountain under ground, 
When first 'tis by the lapwing found. 877 

But if for me thou dost forsake 
Some other maid, and rudely break 
Her worshipp'd image from its base, 
To give to me the ruin'd place ; 

Then, fare thee well I'd rather make 
My bower upon some icy lake 
When thawing suns begin to shine, 
Than trust to love so false as thine 1 

There was a pathos in this lay, 

That, e'en without enchantment's art, 
Would instantly have found its way 

Deep into SELIM'S burning heart ; 
But, breathing, as it did, a tone 
To earthly lutes and lips unknown, 
With every chord fresh from the touch 
Of Music's Spirit, 'twas too much ! 
Starting, he dash'd away the cup, 

Which, all the time of this sweet air, 
His hand had held, untasted, up, 

As if 'twere fix'd by magic there, 
And naming her, so long unnam'd, 
So long unseen, wildly exclaim'd, 

Hadst thou but sung this witching strain, 
I could forget forgive thee all, 

And never leave those eyes again." 


The mask is off the charm is wrought 
And SELIM to his heart has caught, 
In blushes, more than ever bright, 
His XOUKMAHAL, his Harain's Light ! 
And well do vanish'd frowns enhance 
The charm of every brighten'd glance; 
And dearer seems each dawning smile 
For having lost its light awhile : 
And, happier now for all her sighs, 

As on his arm her head reposes, 
She whispers him with laughing eyes, 

" Beinember, love, the Feast of Roses ! * 


FADLADEEN, at the conclusion of this light rhapsody, 
took occasion to sum up his opinion of the young Cash- 
meriaii's poetry, of which, he trusted, they had that 
evening heard the last. Having recapitulated the epi- 
thets " frivolous " " inharmonious " " nonsensical," 
he proceeded to say that, viewing it in the most favor- 
able light, it resembled one of those Maldivian boats to 
which the Princess had alluded in the relation of her 
dream, 378 a slight, gilded thing, sent adrift without 
rudder or ballast, and with nothing but vapid sweets and 
faded flowers on board. The profusion, indeed, of 
flowers and birds which this poet had ready on all occa- 
sions, not to mention dews, gems, etc., was a most 
oppressive kind of opulence to his hearers ; and had the 
unlucky effect of giving to his style all the glitter of 
the flower-garden without its method, and all the flutter 
of the aviary without its song. In addition to this, he 
chose his subjects badly, and was always most inspired 
by the worst parts of them. The charms of paganism, 
the merits of rebellion, these were the themes honored 
with his particular enthusiasm ; and, in the poem just 
recited, one of his most palatable passages was in praise 
of that beverage of the Unfaithful, wine ; " being, per- 
haps," said he, relaxing into a smile, as conscious of his 
own character in the Haram on this point, " one of those 
bards whose fancy owes all its illumination to the grape, 
like that painted porcelain, 879 so curious and so rare, 
whose images are only visible when liquor is poured into 
it." Upon the whole, it was his opinion, from the spec- 
imens which they had heard, and which, he begged to 
say, were the most tiresome part of the journey, that 


whatever other merits this well-dressed young gentleman 
might possess poetry was by no means his proper avo- 
cation: "and indeed," continued the critic, "from his 
fondness for flowers and for birds, I would venture to 
suggest that a florist or a bird-catcher is a much more 
suitable calling for him than a poet." 

They had now begun to ascend those barren mountains 
which separate Cashmere from the rest of India ; and as 
the heats were intolerable, and the time of their encamp- 
ments limited to the few hours necessary for refresh- 
ment and repose, there \vas an end to all their delightful 
evenings, and LALLA ROOKII saw no more of FERAMORZ. 
She now felt that her short dream of happiness was over, 
and that she had nothing but the recollection of its few 
blissful hours, like the one draught of sweet water that 
serves the camel across the wilderness, tp be her heart's 
refreshment during the dreary waste of life that was 
before her. The blight that had fallen upon her spirits 
soon found its way to her cheek, and her ladies saw with 
regret though not without some suspicion of the cause 
that the beauty of their mistress, of which they were 
almost as proud as of their own, was fast vanishing 
away at the very moment of all when she had most need 
of it. What must the King of Bueharia feel, when, 
instead of the lively and beautiful LALLA ROOKH. whom 
the poets of Delhi had described as more perfect than 
the divinest images in the house of A/ou, 8M> lie should 
receive a pale and inanimate victim, upon whose cheek 
neither health nor pleasure bloomed, and from whose, 
eyes Love had fled, to hide himself in her heart '.' 

If anything could have charmed away the melancholy 
of her spirits, it would have been the fresh airs and en- 
chanting scenery of that Valley which the IVrsians so 
justly called the Unequalled.* 11 I'ut neither the coolness 
of its atmosphere, so luxurious after toiling up those 


bare and burning mountains, neither the splendor of 
the minarets and pagodas that shone out from the 
depth of its woods, nor the grottos, hermitages, and 
miraculous fountains 882 which make every spot of that 
region holy ground, neither the countless water-falls 
that rush into the Valley from all those high and roman- 
tic mountains that encircle it, nor the fair city on the 
Lake, whose houses, roofed with flowers, 388 appeared at a 
distance like one vast and variegated parterre ; not all 
these wonders and glories of the most lovely country 
iinder the sun could steal her heart for a minute from 
those sad thoughts, which but darkened and grew bitterer 
every step she advanced. 

The gay pomps and processions that met her upon her 
entrance into the Valley, and the magnificence with 
which the roads all along were decorated, did honor to 
the taste and gallantry of the young King. It was night 
when they approached the city, and, for the last two 
miles, they had passed under arches, thrown from hedge 
to hedge, festooned with only those rarest roses from 
which the Attar Gul, more precious than gold, is dis- 
tilled, and illuminated in rich and fanciful forms with 
lanterns of the triple-colored tortoise-shell of Pegu. 884 
Sometimes, from a dark wood by the side of the road, a 
display of fireworks would break out, so sudden and so 
brilliant, that a Brahmin might fancy he beheld that 
grove in whose purple shade the God of Battles was 
born, bursting into a flame at the moment of his birth ; 
while, at other times, a quick and playful irradiation 
continued to brighten all the fields and gardens by which 
they passed, forming a line of dancing lights along the 
horizon ; like the meteors of the north, as they are seen 
by those hunters 88S who pursue the white and blue foxes 
on the confines of the Icy Sea. 

These arches and fireworks delighted the Ladies of 


the Princess exceedingly; and with their usual good 
logic, they deduced from his taste for illuminations, that 
the King of Bucharia would make the most exemplary 
husband imaginable. Nor, indeed, could LALLA EOOKH 
herself help feeling the kindness and splendor with 
which the young bridegroom welcomed her; but she 
also felt how painful is the gratitude which kindness 
from those we cannot love excites ; and that their best 
blandishments come over the heart with all that chilling 
and deadly sweetness which we can fancy in the cold, 
odoriferous wind 886 that is to blow over this earth in the 
last days. 

The marriage was fixed for the morning after her 
arrival, when she was, for the first time, to be presented 
to the monarch in that Imperial Palace beyond the lake 
called the Shalimar. Though never before had a night 
of more wakeful and anxious thought been passed in the 
Happy Valley, yet, when she rose in the morning, and 
her Ladies came around her, to assist in the adjustment 
of the bridal ornaments, they thought they had never 
seen her look half so beautiful. What she had lost of 
the bloom and radiancy of her charms was more than 
made up by that intellectual expression, that soul beam- 
ing forth from the eyes, which is worth all the rest of 
loveliness. When they had tinged her fingers with the 
Henna leaf, and placed upon her brow a small coronet of 
jewels, of the shape worn by the ancient Queens of 
Bucharia, they flung over her head the rose-colored 
bridal veil, and she proceeded to the barge that was to 
convey her across the Lake; first kissing, with a 
mournful look, the little amulet of cornelian which her 
father at parting had hung about her neck. 

The morning was as fresh and fair as the maid on 
whose nuptials it rose, and the shining Lake, all covered 
with boats, the minstrels phiying upon the shores of the 


islands, and the crowded summer-houses on the green 
hills around, with shawls and banners waving from their 
roofs, presented such a picture of animated rejoicing, as 
only she, who was the object of it all, did not feel with 
transport. To LALLA KOOKH alone it was a melancholy 
pageant; nor could she have even borne to look upon 
the scene, were it not for a hope that, among the crowds 
around, she might once more perhaps catch a glimpse of 
FEKAMOKZ. So much was her imagination haunted by 
this thought, that there was scarcely an ^slet or boat she 
passed on the way, at which her heart did not flutter 
with the momentary fancy that he was there. Happy, 
in her eyes, the humblest slave upon whom the light of 
his dear looks fell ! in the barge immediately after the 
Princess sat FADLADEEN, with his silken curtains thrown 
widely apart, that all might have the benefit of his 
august presence, and with his head full of the speech 
he was to deliver to the King, "concerning FERAMOHZ, 
and literature, and the Chabuk, as connected therewith." 
They now had entered the canal which leads from the 
Lake to the splendid domes and saloons of the Shaliniar, 
and went gliding on through the gardens that ascended 
from each bank, full of flowering shrubs that made the 
air all perfume; while from the middle of the canal 
rose jets of water, smooth and unbroken, to such a daz- 
zling height, that they stood like tall pillars of diamond 
in the sunshine. After sailing under the arches of vari- 
ous saloons, they at length arrived at the last and most 
magnificent, where the monarch awaited the coming of 
his bride ; and such was the agitation of her heart and 
frame that it was with difficulty she could walk up the 
marble steps, which were covered with cloth of gold for 
her ascent from the barge. At the end of the hall stood 
two thrones, as precious as the Cerulean Throne of Cool- 
burga, 887 on oue of which sat ALIRIS, the youthful King 


of Bneharia, and on the other was, in a few minutes, 
to be placed the most beautiful Princess in the world. 
Immediately upon the entrance of LALLA EOOKH into 
the saloon, the monarch descended from his throne to 
meet her ; but scarcely had he time to take her hand in 
his, when she screamed with surprise, and fainted at his 
feet. It was FERAMORZ himself that stood before her ! 
FEKAMOKZ was, himself, the Sovereign of Bucharia, who 
in this disguise had accompanied his young bride from 
Delhi, and, having won her love as an humble minstrel, 
now amply deserved to enjoy it as a King. 

The consternation of FADLADEEX at this discovery 
was, for the moment, almost pitiable. But change of 
opinion is a resource too convenient in courts for this 
experienced courtier not to have learned to avail himself 
of it. His criticisms were all, of course, recanted in- 
stantly : he was seized with an admiration of the King's 
verses, as unbounded as, he begged him to believe, it 
was disinterested ; and the following week saw him in 
possession of an additional place, swearing by all the 
Saints of Islam that never had there existed so great 
a poet as the Monarch ALIRIS, and, moreover, ready to 
prescribe his favorite regimen of the Chabuk for every 
man, woman, and child th;it dared to think otherwise. 

Of the happiness of the King and Queen of Bucharia, 
after such a beginning, there can be but little doubt; 
and. among the lesser symptoms, it is recorded of LALLA 
ROOK ii. that, to the day of her death, in memory of 
their delightful journey, she never called the, King bjr 
any other name than FEKAMOKZ. 



Note 1, p. 21. He embarked for Arabia. These particulars 
of the visit of the King of Bucharia to Aurungzebe are found in 
Dow's History of Uindost an, vol. iii. p. 392. 

Note 2, p. 21. LALLA ROOKH. Tulip cheek. 

Note 3. p. 21. Leila. The mistress of Mejnoun, upon whose 
story so many romances in all the languages of the East are 

Note 4, p. 21. Shirine. For the loves of this celebrated 
beauty with Khosrou and with Ferliad, see U'llerbelot, Gibbon, 
Oriental Collections, etc. 

Note 5, p. 21. Deicildt. "The history of the loves of Do- 
wild*? and Chizer, the son of the Emperor Alia, is written in an 
elegant poem, by the noble Chusero." Ferixhta. 

Note 6, p. 22. Scatti-riny of the Hoses. Gul Heazee. 

Note 7, p. 22. Emperor's far or. "One mark of honor or 
knighthood bestowed by the Emperor is the permission to wear a 
small kettledrum at the bows of their saddles, which at first was 
invented for the training of hawks, and to call them to the lure, 
and is worn in the field by all sportsmen to that end." Fryer's 

"Those on whom the King has conferred the privilege must 
wear an ornament of jewels on the right side of the (urban. Mir- 
nionnted by a high plninc of the feathers of a kind of egret. This 
bird i found only in Cashmere, and the feather-* are can-fiitlv col- 
lected for the King, who bestows them on his nobles." Kli'liin- 
stonc'x Account nf ('antml. 

Note , p. 2*2. Kfilrr Khun. " Khedar Khan, the Khakan. or 
Xing of Turqnestan beyond the Gihon (at the end of the eleventh 


236 NOTES. 

century), whenever he appeared abroad, was preceded by seveu 
hundred horsemen with silver battle-axes, and was followed by an 
equal number bearing maces of gold. He was a great patron of 
poetry, and it was he who used to preside at public exercises of 
genius, with four basins of gold and silver by him to distribute 
among the poets who excelled." Richardson' 1 s Dissertation pre- 
fixed to his Dictionary. 

Note 9, p. 22. Gilt pine-apples. " The kubdeh, a large gold- 
en knob, generally in the shape of a pine-apple, on the top of the 
canopy over the litter or palanquin." Scott's Notes on the 

Note 10, p. 22. Sumptuous litter. In the Poein of Zohair, in 
the Moallakat, there is the following lively description of " a com- 
pany of maidens seated on camels." 

" They are mounted in carriages covered with costly awnings, 
and with rose-colored veils, the linings of which have the hue of 
crimson Andem wood. 

" When they ascend from the bosom of the vale, they sit forward 
on the saddle-cloth, with every mark of a voluptuous gayety. 

" Now, when they have reached the brink of yon blue-gushing 
rivulet, they fix the poles of their tents like the Arab with a settled 

Note 11, p. 22. Argus pheasant's wing. See Bernier's de- 
scription of the attendants on Raucha-nara-Begum, in her progress 
to Cashmere. 

Note 12, p. 23. Munificent protector. This hypocritical 
Emperor would have made a worthy associate of certain Holy 
Leagues. " He held the cloak of religion," says Dow, "between 
his actions and the vulgar; and impiously thanked the Divinity for 
a success which he owed to his own wickedness. When he was 
murdering and persecuting his brothers and their families, he was 
building a magnificent mosque at Delhi, as an offering to God for 
his assistance to him in the civil wars. He acted as high priest at 
the consecration of this temple; and made a practice of attending 
divine service there, in the humble dress of a Fakeer. But when 
he lifted one hand to the Divinity, he, with the other, signed war- 
rants for the assassination of his relations." History of Hindo- 
stan, vol. iii. p. 335. See also the curious letter of Aurungzebe, 
given in the Oriental Collections, -vol. i. p. 320. 

NOTES. 237 

Note 18, p. 23. The Idol of Jaghernaut." The idol at Jaglier- 
nat lias two fine diamonds for eyes. No goldsmith is suffered to 
enter the Pagoda, one having stolen one of these eyes, being locked 
up all night with the Idol." Taternier. 

Note 14, p. 23. Jioyal Gardens of DelJn. See a description 
of these Royal Gardens in "An Account of the present State of 
Delhi," by Lieut. \V. Franklin; Axiat. Itesearch, vol. iv. p. 417. 

Note 15, p. 23. Lake of Pearl. "In the neighborhood is 
Notte Gill, or the Lake of Pearl, which receives this name from its 
pellucid water." Pennant's Hindostan. 

"Nasir Jung encamped in the vicinity of the Lake of Tonoor, 
amused himself with sailing on that clear and beautiful water, and 
gave it the fanciful name of ilotee Talah, 'the Lake of Pearls,' 
which it still retains." Wilks's South of India. 

Note 10, p. 24. Isles of the Went. Sir Thomas Roe, Ambas- 
sador from James I. to Jehan-Guire. 

Note 17, p. 24. Ezra. " The romance Wemakweazra, writ- 
ten in Persian verse, which contains the loves of Wamak and Ezra, 
two celebrated lovers who lived before the time of" 
Note on the Oriental Tales. 

Note 18, p. 24. Rodahrer. Their amour is recounted in the 
Shah-Nameh of Ferdousi; and there is much beauty in the passage 
which describes the slaves of liodahvor sitting on the bank of the 
river, ami throwing flowers into the stream, in order to draw the 
attention of the young Hero who is encamped on the opposite side. 
(See Champion's translation.) 

Note 10, p. 24. White Demon. liustam is the Hercules of 
the Persians. For the particulars of his victory over the Sopped 
IVevo, or White Demon, see Oriental ('ollcrtiuns. vol. ii. p. 4". 
" Near the city of Shiran/ is an immense quadrangular monument, 
in commemoration of this romh:it. railed the Kelaat-i-Deev Sejierd, 
or castle of the. White Giant, which Father A ngclo, in his d'azn- 
jihiltirlmn 1'ernirnm, p. \'2~, declares to have been the most memo- 
rable monument of antiquity which he had M-en in Persia." (Sec 
Ouseley's Persian Hisctll&niei.) 

Note 20, p. 24. Golden anklet*. " The wom.-n of the Idol, 
or dancing girls of the Pagoda, have little golden bvlU fastened to 

238 NOTES. 

their feet, the soft harmonious tinkling of wliicli vibrates in unison 
with the exquisite melody of their voices." Maurice's Indian 

" The Arabian courtesans, like the Indian women, have little 
golden bells fastened round their legs, neck, and elbows, to the 
sound of which they dance before the King. The Arabian prin- 
cesses wear golden rings on their fingers, to which little bells are 
suspended, as well as in tlie flowing tresses of their hair, that their 
superior rank may be known, and they themselves receive in 
passing the homage due to them." (See Calmet's Dictionary, art. 

Note 21, p. 25. Delicious opium. " Abou-Tige, ville de la 
Theba'ide, ou il croit beaucoup de pavot noir, dont se fait le meil- 
leur opium." D'Herbelot. 

Note 22, p. 25. Crishna. The Indian Apollo. " He and 
the three Ramas are described as youths of perfect beauty; and the 
princesses of Hindustan were all passionately in love with Chrishna, 
who continues to this hour the darling God of the Indian women." 
Sir W. Jones, on the Gods of Greece, Italy, and India. 

Note 23. p. 25. Shatcl-goats of Tibet. See Tumor's Enibassy 
for a description of this animal, " the most beauMful among the 
whole tribe of goats." The material for the shawls (which is car- 
ried to Cashmere) is found next the skin. 

Note 24, p. 26. Veiled Prophet of Khorassan. For the real 
history of this Impostor, whose original name was Hakem ben 
Haschem, and who was called Mokanna from the veil of silver 
gauze (or, as others say, golden) which he always wore, see D'Her- 

Note 25, p. 27. Khorassan. Khorassan signifies, in the 
old Persian language, Province or Region of the Sun. Sir W. 

Note 26, p. 27. Flowerets and fruits blush orer every stream. 

"The fruits of Meru are finer than those of any other place; 
and one cannot see in any other city such palaces with groves, and 
streams, and gardens." Ebn Haukal's Geography. 

Note 27, p. 27. Among MEROU'S bright palaces and groves. 
One of the royal cities of Khorassan. 

Note 28, p. 27. MOUSSA'S. Moses. 

NOTES. 239 

Note 29, p. 27. O'er MOUSSA'S cheek, when doicn the Mount 
he trod. 

" Ses disciples assuroient qu'il se couvroit le visage, pour ne pas 
e"blouir ceux qui 1'approchoient par 1'eclat de son visage comme 
Moyse." D' llerbelot. 

Note 30, p. 27. In hatred to the Caliph's hue of night. 

Black was the color adopted by the Caliphs of the House of 
Abbas, in their garments, turbans, and standards. " 11 faut 
remarqtier ici touchant les habits blancs des disciples de Hakem, 
que la couleur des habits, des coiffures et des etendards dea 
Khalifes Abassides etant la noire, ce chef de Rebelles ne pouvoit 
pas clioisir une qui lui fut plus opposee." D'Herbelot. 

Note 31, p. 28. H'ithjavrlins of the lijht Kathalan reed. 
"Our dark javelins, exquisitely wrought of Khathaiau reeds, 
slender and delicate." Poem of Amru. 

Note 32, p. 28. Fill'd icith the stems. 

Pichula, used anciently for arrows by the Persians. 

Note 33, p. 28. That bloom on IUAN'S rivers. 

The Persians call this plant Gaz. The celebrated shaft of Is- 
fendlar, one of their ancient heroes, was made of it. "Nothing 
can be more beautiful than the appearance of this plant in flower 
during the rains on the banks of rivers, where it is usually inter- 
woven with a lovely twining asdepias." .Sir \\'. Jones, Botanical 
Select Indian I'laiit.i. 

Note 34, p. 28. Like a ch<-nar-'.ree yrore, ichrn winter thrown. 

The Oriental plane. "The chenar is a delightful tree; its bole 
is of a fine white and smooth bark; and its foliage, which grows in 
a tuft at the summit, is of a bright green." Murier's Travel*. 

Note 3."), p. 28. Fro. trho knwl at HKAIIMA'S burning 

The burning fountains of lirahma near Chittagong, esteemed 
as holy. Turin r. 

Note 30, p. 28. To the small, half-nhitt ylances of K ATM AT. 

240 NOTES. 

Note 37, p. 29. Like tulip-beds, of different shape and dyes. 

"The name of tulip is said to be of Turkish extraction, and 
given to the flower on account of its resembling a turban." Beck- 
mann's History of Intentions. 

Note 38, p. 29. And fur-bound bonnet of Bucharian shape. 

"The inhabitants of Bucharia wear a round cloth bonnet, 
shaped much after the Polish fashion, having a large fur border. 
They tie their kaftans about the middle with a girdle of a kind of 
silk crape, several times round the body." Account of Independ- 
ent Tartary, in Pinko-ton's Collection. 

Note 39, p. 29. Overwhelmed in fight and captive to the Greek. 
In the war of the Caliph Mahadi against the Empress Irene, for 
an account of which vide Gibbon, vol. x. 

Note 40, p. 31. The flying throne of star-taught SOIJMAN. 

This wonderful throne was called The Star of the Genii. For 
a full description of it, see the Fragment, translated by Captain 
Franklin, from a Persian MS. entitled, " The History of Jerusa- 
lem," Oriental Collections, vol. i. p. 235. When Soliman travelled, 
the Eastern writers say, " He had a carpet of green silk on which 
his throne was placed, being of a prodigious length and breadth, 
and sufficient for all his forces to stand upon, the men placing 
themselves on his right hand, and the spirits on his left; and that 
when all were in order, the wind, at his command, took up the car- 
pet, and transported it, with all that were upon it, wherever he 
pleased ; the army of birds at the same time flying over their heads, 
and forming a kind of canopy to shade them from the sun." 
Sale's Koran, vol. ii. p. 214, note. 

Note 41, p. 31. Formany an age, in every chance and change. 
The transmigration of souls was one of his doctrines. ( Vide 

Note 42, p. 31. To which all Heaven, except the Proud One, 

" And when we said unto the angels, Worship Adam, they all 
worshipped except Eblis (Lucifer), who refused." The Koran, 
chap. ii. 

Note 43, p. 31. In MoussA's/rame, and, thence descending, 
flowed. Moses. 

NOTES. 241 

Note 44, p. 31. Through many a Prophet's breast. 

This is according to D'Herbelot's account of the doctrines of 
Mokanna: " Sa doctrine e*toit, que Dieu avoit pris une forme 
et figure huraaine, depuis qu'il eut coinmande aux Anges d'adorer 
Adam, le premier des hommes. Qu'apres la mort d'Adam, Dieu 
e"toit apparu sous la figure de plusieurs Prophetes, et autres grands 
hommes qu'il avoit choisis, jusqu'a ce qu'il prit ct-lled'Abu Moslem, 
Prince de Kliorassan, lequel professoit 1'erreur de la Tenassukhiah 
ou Metempsychose; et qu'apres la inort de ce Prince, la Divinite 
e"toit passe'e et descendue eu sa personne." 

Note 45, p. 31. In ISSA shone. Jesus. 

Note 46, p. 34. Born by that ancient flood, ichich from its 

The Amoo, which rises in the Belur Tag, or Dark Mountains, 
anfc, running nearly from east lowest, splits into two branches; 
one of which falls into the Caspian Sea, and the other into Aral 
Nahr, or the Lake of Eagles. 

Note 47, p. 35. The bulbul utters, ere her soul depart. The 

Note 48, p. 42. In holy ROOM, or MECCA'S dim arcades. 

The Cities of Com (or Koom) and Cashan are full of mosques, 
mausoleums, and sepulchres of the descendants of Ali, the Saints 
of Persia. Chardin. 

Note 49, p. 42. Stood rases, fiWd with KIPHMKE'S golden 

An island in the Persian Gulf, celebrated for its white wine. 

Note 5O, p. 42. Like ZKMZKM'S Spring of Holiness, had 

The miraculous wHI at Mecca; so called, says Sale, from the 
murmuring of its waters. 

\oto 51, p. 42. Whom INDIA xrrrr.t. the monkey d> ity. 

The (!ol Hannaman. "Apes arc in many part-* of India 
highly venerated, out of respect to tin- (lod Ilamiainati. a deity 
partaking of the form of that race." V< niwnt'* llin<ln*titn. 

Si-e a curious account, iti S'cpli>n's /Vr*ii, of a solemn 'in- 
bassy from some part of the Indies to (ioa. when the Portuguese 

242 NOTES. 

were there, offering vast treasures for the recovery of a monkey's 
tooth, which they held in great veneration, and which had been 
taken away upon the conquest of the kingdom of Jafanapatan. 

Note 52, p. 42. To bend in worship, LUCIFER was right. 

The resolution of Eblis not to acknowledge the new creature, 
man, was, according to Mahometan tradition, thus adopted: 
"The earth (which God had selected for the materials of His 
work ) was carried into Arabia to a place between Mecca and Tayef , 
where, being first kneaded by the angels, it was afterwards fash- 
ioned by God himself into a human form, and left to dry for the 
space of forty days, or, as others say, as many years; the angels, in 
the meantime, often visiting it, and Eblis (then one of the angels 
nearest to God's presence, afterwards the devil) among the rest; 
but he, not contented with looking at it, kicked it with his foot till 
it rung; and knowing God designed that creature to be his supe- 
rior, took a secret resolution never to acknowledge him as such." 
Sale oil the Koran. 

Note 53, p. 43. From dead men's marrow guides them best at 

A kind of lantern formerly used by robbers, called the Hand of 
Glory, the candle for which was made of the fat of a dead male- 
factor. This, however, was rather a "Western than an Eastern 

Note 54, p. 43. In that best-marble ofichich Gods are made. 

The material of which images of Gaudma (the Birman Deity) 
are made, is held sacred. " Birmans may not purchase the mar- 
ble in mass, but are suffered, and indeed encouraged, to buy 
figures of the Deity ready made." Symes's Ava, vol. ii. p. 376. 

Note 55, p. 46. Of Eerzrah flowers, came filVd with pesti- 

" It is commonly said in Persia that if a man breathe in the hot 
south wind, which in June or July passes over that flower (the 
Kerzereh), it will kill him." Thevenot. 

Note 56, p. 49. Within the crocodile's stretch'd jaws to 

The humming-bird is said to run this risk for the purpose of 
picking the crocodile's teeth. The same circumstance is related of 

NOTES, 243 

the lapwing, as a fact to which he was witness, by Paul Lucas, 
Voyage fait en 1714. 

The ancient story concerning the Trochilus, or humming-bird, 
entering with impunity into the mouth of the crocodile, is firmly 
believed at Java. Harrow's Cochin China. 

Note 57, p. 50. That rank and venomous food on which she 

' Circum easdem ripas (Nili, viz.) ales est Ibis. Ea serpentimn 
populatur ova, gratissimamque ex his cscain nidis suis refert." 

Note 58, p. 51. Yamtcheou. "The Feast of Lanterns is 
celebrated at Yamtcheou with more magnificence than anywhere 
else: and the report goes that the illuminations there are so splen- 
did that an Emperor once, not daring openly to leave his Court to 
go thither, committed himself with the Queen and several Prin- 
cesses of his family into the hands of a magician, who promised to 
transport them thither in a trice. lie made them in the night to 
ascend magnificent thrones that were borne up by swans, which in a 
moment arrived at Yamtcheou. The Emperor saw at his leisure 
all the solemnity, being carried upon a cloud that hovered over the 
city and descended by degrees; and came back again with the same 
s]>eed ami equipage, nobody at court perceiving his absence." 
77<e Present Mate of China, p. 150. 

Note 59, p. 51. Sceneries of bamboo-icork. See a description 
of the nuptials of Vizier Alee in the Asiatic Annual Register for 

Note 60, p. 51. Chinese illuminations. " The vulgar ascribe 
it to an accident that happened in the family of a famous mandarin, 
whose daughter, walking one evening upon the shore of a lake, fell 
in and was drowned; tin: afllictod father, with bis family, ran 
thither, and, the bettor to find IHT. he caused a great company of 
lanterns to be lighted. All the inhabitants of the place thronged 
afti-r him with torches. The year ensuing they made tires upon 
tin- shores the same day; they ron tinned the ceremony every year, 
every one lighted his lantern, and by degrees it grew into a cus- 
tom." l'rcnrnt Nlate of China. 

Note 01, p. 52. Like SKUA'S (Jitrcn could rntiqnixh with that 

"Thou hast ravished my heart with one of thine oyes." SoL 

244 NOTES. 

Note 62, p. 52. The fingers' ends with a bright roseate hue. 

"They tinged the ends of their fingers scarlet with henna, so 
that they resembled branches of coral." Story of Prince Futtun 
in liahardanush. 

Note 63, p. 53. To give that long, dark languish to the eye. 

" The women blacken the inside of their eyelids with a powder 
named the black kohol." Russel. 

" None of these ladies," says Shaw, " take themselves to be 
completely dressed, till they have tinged the hair and edges of their 
eyelids with the powder of lead ore. Now, as this operation is 
performed by dipping first into the powder a small wooden bodkin 
of the thickness of a quill, and then drawing it afterwards through 
the eyelids over the ball of the eye, we shall have a lively image of 
what the Prophet ( Jer. iv. 30) may be supposed to mean by rend- 
ing the eyes with painting. This practice is no doubt of great an- 
tiquity; for besides the instance already taken notice of, we find 
that where Jezebel is said (2 Kings ix. 30) to have painted her face, 
the original words are, she adjusted her eyes with the powder of 
lead ore." Shaw's Travels. 

Note 64, p. 53. In her full lap the Champac's leaves of gold. 

The appearance of the blossoms of the gold-colored Champac 
on the black hair of the Indian women has supplied the Sanscrit 
poets with many elegant allusions. (See Asiatic Researches, 
vol. iv.) 

Note 65, p. 53. The sweet Elcaya, and that courteous tree. 
A tree famous for its perfume, and common on the hills of 
Yemen. Niebuhr. 

Note 66, p. 53. Which bows to all who seek its canopy. 

Of the genus mimosa, "which droops its branches whenever 
any person approaches it, seeming as if it saluted those who retire 
under its shade." Ibid. 

Note 67, p. 54. The bowers of TIBET, send forth odorous 

" Cloves are a principal ingredient in the composition of the per- 
fumed rods, which men of rank keep constantly burning in their 
presence." Turner's Tibet. 

NOTES. 245 

Note <58, p. 54. With odoriferous woods of COMORIN. 

" C'est d'oii vient le bois d'alocs que les Arabes appellent Cud 
Comari, et celui du sandal, qui s'y trouve en grande quantite." 
D Herbelot. 

Note 69, p. 54. The crimson blossoms of the coral tree. 

" Thousands of variegated lories visit the coral trees." Barrow. 

Note 70, p. 51. Mecca's blue sacred pigeon. 

" In Mecca there are quantities of blue pigeons, which none 
will affright or abuse, much less kill." PitVs account of the Ma- 

Note 71, p. 54. The thrush of Hindostan. 

" The Pagoda Thrush is esteemed among the first choristers of 
India. It sits perched on the sacred pagodas, and from thence 
delivers its melodious song." Pennant's Hindostan. 

Note 72, p. 55. About the gardens, drunk with that sweet 

Ta vernier adds, that while the birds of Paradise lie in this intoxi- 
cated state, the emmets come and eat off their legs ; and that hence 
it is they are said to have no feet. 

Note 73, p. 55. Whose scent hatlt litr'd them o'pr the summer 

Birds of Paradise, which, at the nutmeg season, come in flights 
from the .southern isles to India; and '' the strength of the nut- 
meg," says Tavernier, " so intoxicates them, that they fall dead 
drunk to the earth." 

Note 74, p. 55. Build their hi'/fi nests of Innldinrj rhinainon. 
"That bird which liveth in Arabia, and buildeth its nest with 
cinnamon. 1 ' Bnncni''* \'nl<i<ir Krrors. 

Note 75, p. 55. Slt-Pinny in lit/lit. llki- the ijreen birds that 

" The spirits of the martyrs will !> lodged in the crops of green 
birds." (iibbim, vol. ix. p. 421. 

Note 7*5. p. 55. Morr likf tin- Injuries of Hint inii'ion* Kin-i. 

Shedad, who made tho delicious gardens of I rim. in imitation 
of Paradise, ami destroyed by lightning the first time he at- 
tempted to enter them. 

246 NOTES. 

Note 77, p. 56. In its blue blossoms hum themselves to sleep. 

" My Pandits assure me that the plant before us (the Nilica) is 
their Sephalica, thus named because the bees are supposed to sleep 
on its blossoms." Sir W. Jones. 

Note 78, p. 58. As they were captives to the King of Flowers. 
" They deferred it till the King of Flowers should ascend his 
throne of enamelled foliage." The Bahardanush. 

Note 79, p. 58. But a light golden chain-work round her hair. 

" One of the head-dresses of the Persian women is composed 
of a light golden chain-work, set with small pearls, with a thin 
gold plate pendant, about the bigness of a crown-piece, on which 
is impressed an Arabian prayer, and which hangs upon the cheek 
below the ear." Hamcay's Travels. 

Note 80, p. 58. Siich as the maids of TEZD and SIIIRAS 

" Certainly the women of Yezd are the handsomest women in 
Persia. The proverb is, that to live happy a man must have a 
wife of Yezd, eat the bread of Yezdecas, and drink the wine of 
Shiraz." Tavernier. 

Note 81, p. 59. Upon a musnud's edge. 

Musnuds are cushioned seats, usually reserved for persons of 

Note 82, p. 59. In the pathetic mode of ISFAHAN. 

The Persians, like the ancient Greeks, call their musical modes 
or Perclas by the names of different coimtries or cities, as the mode 
of Isfahan, the mode of Irak, etc. 

Note 83, p. 59. There's a bower of roses by BENDEMEER'S 

A river which flows near the ruins of Chilminar. 

Note 84, p. 61. The hills of crystal on the Caspian shore. 

" To the north of us (on the coast of the Caspian, near Badku) 
was a mountain, which sparkled like diamonds, arising from the 
sea-glass and crystals with which it abounds." Journey of the 
Russian Ambassador to Persia, 1746. 

Note 85, p. 61. Of EDEX, shake in the eternal breeze. 

" To which will be added the sound of the bells, hanging on 
the trees, which will be put in motion by the wind proceeding 
from the throne of God, as often as the blessed wish for music." 

NOTES. 247 

Note 86, p. 62. And his floating eyes oh! they resemble. 
" Whose wanton eyes resemble blue water-lilies, agitated by 
the breeze." Jayadeva. 

Note 87, p. 62. Blue water-lilies. 

The blue lotus, which grows in Cashmere and in Persia. 

Note 88, p. 63. To muse upon the pictures that huny round. 

It has been generally supposed that the Mahometans prohibit 
all pictures of animals; but Toderini shows that, though the prac- 
tice is forbidden by the Koran, they are not more averse to painted 
figures and images than other people. From Mr. 'Murphy's work, 
too, we find that the Arabs of Spain had no objection to the intro- 
duction of figures into painting. 

Note 89, p. 63. Whose orb when half retired looks loveliest. 

This is not quite astronomically true. " Dr. Hadley (says 
Keil) has shown that Venus is brightest when she is about forty 
degrees removed from the sun; and that then but only a fourth 
part of her lucid disk is to be seen from the earth." 

Note 90, p. 63- He read that to be blest is to be icise. 

For the lores of King Solomon (who was supposed to preside 
over the whole race of Genii) with Balkis. the Queen of Shcba or 
Saba. see D'llerbe'ot, and the Notes on the Koran, chap ii. 

" In the palace which Solomon ordered to be built against the 
arrival of the Queen of Saba, the floor or pavement was of trans- 
parent glass, laid over running water, in which fish were swim- 
ming." This led the Queen into a very natural mistake, which the 
Koran has not thought beneath its dignity to commemorate. It 
was said unto her, ' Enter the palace.' And when she saw it sne 
Imagined it to be a great water; and she discovered her legs, by 
lifting up her robe to pass through it. Whereupon Solomon said 
to her, 'Verily, this Is the place evenly floored with glass.'" 

Note 91, p. 63. Here fond ZI:I,F.IKA woo* with open arms. 

The wife of Potiphar, thus named by the Orientals. 

"The passion which this frail lieauty of uuti<|ui!y conceived for 
her young Hebrew slave has given rise to a much-esteemed |Meiii 
in the Persian language, entitled Yuscf run ZrlilJiu. by Noure.ldin 
.laini; the manuscript copy of which, in the Ho.lleian Library at 
Oxford, is supposed to In- the linest in the whole world." Aufe 

248 NOTES. 

Note 92, p. 63. With a new text to consecrate their love. 

The particulars of Mahomet's amour with Mary, the Coptic 
girl, in justification of which lie added a new chapter to the Koran, 
may be found in Gagnier's Notes upon Abulfeda, p. 151. 

Note 93, p. 65. But in that deep-blue, melancholy dress. 
"Deep blue is their mourning color."' Hanway. 

Note 94, p. 05. Sat in her sorrow like the sweet night-flower. 
The sorrowful nyctanthes, which begins to spread its rich odor 
after sunset. 

Note 95, p. 67. As the viper weaves its wily covering. 

" Concerning the vipers, which Pliny says were frequent among 
the balsam-trees, I made very particular inquiry: several were 
brought me alive both to Yambo and Jidda." Bruce. 

Note 96, p. 72. The sunny apples of Istkahar. ' In the ter- 
ritory of Istkahar there is a kind of apple, half of which is sweet 
and half sour." Ebn Haukal. 

Note 97, p. 72. They saio a young Hindoo girl upon the bank. 
For an account of this ceremony, see Grandpre's Voyage in the 
Indian Ocean. 

Note 98, p. 72. The Olon-tala, or Sea of Stars. " The place 
where the Whangho, a river of Tibet, rises, and where there are 
more than a hundred springs, which sparkle like stars; whence it 
is called Ilotun-nor, that is, the Sea of Stars." Pinkerton's De- 
scription of Tibet. 

Note 99, p. 74. Hath sprung up here. 

" The Lescar or Imperial Camp is divided, like a regular town, 
into squares, alleys, and streets, and from a rising ground furnishes 
one of the most agreeable prospects in the world. Starting up in 
a few hours in an uninhabited plain, it raises the idea of a city 
built by enchantment. Even those who leave their houses in cities 
to follow the prince in his progress are frequently so charmed by 
the Lescar, when situated in a beautiful and convenient place, that 
they cannot prevail with themselves to remove. To prevent this 
inconvenience to the court, the Emperor, after sufficient time is 
allowed to the tradesmen to follow, orders them to be burnt out of 
their tents." Dow's Hindostan. 

Colonel Wilks gives a lively picture of an Eastern encampment: 

NOTES. 249 

" His camp, like that of most Indian armies, exhibited a motley 
collection of covers from the scorching sun and dews of the night, 
variegated according to the taste or means of each individual, by 
extensive inclosures of colored calico surrounding superb suites of 
tents; by ragged cloths or blankets stretched over sticks or branches ; 
palm-leaves hastily spread over similar supports; handsome tents 
and splendid canopies; horses, oxen, elephants, and camels; all in- 
termixed without any exterior mark of order or design, except the 
flags of the chiefs, which usually mark the centres of a congeries 
of these masses; the only regular part of the encampment being 
the streets of shops, each of which is constructed nearly in the 
manner of a booth at an English fair." Historical Sketches of 
the South of India. 

Note 100, p. 74. Built the high pillar' d halls O/CUILMINAK. 

The edifices of Chilminar and Balbec are supposed to have been 
built by the Genii, acting under the orders of Jan ben Jan, who 
governed the world long before the time of Adam. 

Note 101, p. 74. And camels, tufted o'er with Yemen's shells. 
" A superb camel, ornamented with strings and tufts of small 
shells." All Bey. 

Note 102, p. 74. But the far torrent, or the locust bird. 

A native of Khorassan, and allured southward by means of the 
water of a fountain between Sliira/. and Ispahan, called the Foun- 
tain of Birds, of which it is so fond that it will follow wherever 
that water is carried. 

Note 103, p. 74. Of laden camels and their drivers' songs. 

" Some of the camels have bells about their necks, and some 
about their legs, like those which our carriers put about their fore- 
horses' necks, which, together with the servants (who belong to 
the camels, and travel on foot), singing all night, make a pleasant 
noise, ami the journey passes away delightfully." I'itt's Account 
of tlir Mahometans. 

" The camel-driver follows the camels, singing, and sometimes 
playing upon his pipe; the louder he sinps and pipes, the faster the 
camels go. Nay, they will stand still when he gives over his mu- 
sic." Tarernirr. 

Note 104, p. 7">. Of the Al>i/nxlni<in tnim/xt. Kind <md float. 
" This trutnpH. is often called, in Abyssinia, nrwr runiio, which 
signifies the Note of the K.igle." .V/r of Itrucc's L''lit<>r. 

250 NOTES. 

Note 105, p. 75. The Night and Shadow, over yonder tent. 

The two black standards borne before the Caliphs of the House 
of Abbas were called, allegorically, The Night and the Shadow. 
(See Gibbon.) 

Note 106, p. 75. Defiance fierce at Islam. The Mahometan 

Note 107, p. 75. But, having sworn upon the Holy Grave. 

" The Persians swear by the tomb of Shah Besade, who is buried 
at Casbin ; and when one desires another to asseverate a matter, he 
will ask him if he dare swear by the Holy Grave." Struy. 

Note 108, p. 75. Werespoil'd to feed the Pilgrim's luxury. 
Mahadi, in a single pilgrimage to Mecca, expended six millions 
of dinars of gold. 

Note 109, p. 75. Of MECCA'S sun, with urns of Persian snow. 
" Nivem Meccam apportavit, rem ibi aut nunquain aut raro 
visam." Abulfeda. 

Note 110, p. 75. First, in the van, the People of the Rock. 
The inhabitants of Hejaz or Arabia Petrsea, called by an East- 
ern writer " The People of the Rock." (See Ebn Haukal. ) 

Note 111, p. 75. On their light mountain steeds, of royal stock. 
" Those horses, called by the Arabians Kochlam, of whom a 
written genealogy has been kept for 2,000 years. They are said to 
derive their origin from King Solomon's steeds." Niebuhr. 

Note 112, p. 76. The flashing of their sicords* rich marquetry. 

" Many of the figures on the blades of their swords are wrought 
in gold or silver, or in marquetry with small gems." Asiat. 
Misc. v. i. 

Note 113, p. 76. With dusky legions from the land of Myrrh. 
Azab or Saba. 

Note 114, p. 76. Waving their heron crests with martial grace. 
" The chiefs of the Uzbek Tartars wear a plume of white heron's 
feathers in their turbans." Account of Independent Tartary. 

Note 115, p. 76. Wild warriors of the turquoise hills. 
" In the mountains- of Nishapour and Tons (inKhorassan) they 
find turquoises." Ebn Haukal. 

NOTES. 251 

Note 116, p. 76. Cf HINDOO Kosn, in stormy freedom bred. 
For a description of these stupendous ranges of mountains, see 
Elphinstone's Caubul. 

Note 117, p. 76. Tier Worshippers of Fire. 

The Ghebers or Guebres, those original natives of Persia who 
adhered to their ancient faith, the religion of Zoroaster, and who, 
after the conquest of their country by the Arabs, were either per- 
secuted at home, or forced to become wanderers abroad. 

Note 118, p. 76. From YEZD'S Eternal Mansion of the Fire. 

" Yezd, the chief residence of those ancient natives who wor- 
ship the Sun and the Fire, which latter they have carefully kept 
lighted, without being once extinguished for a moment, about 
3,000 years, on a mountain near Yezd, called Ater Quedali, signify- 
ing the House or Mansion of the Fire. He is reckoned very unfor- 
tunate who dies off that mountain." Stephen's Persia. 

Note 119, p. 76. That burn into the CASPIAN, fierce they 

" When the weather is hazy, the springs of naphtha (on an 
island near Baku) boil up the higher, and the naphtha often takes 
fire on the surface of the earth, and runs in a flame into the sea to 
a distance almost incredible." llanway on the Ecerlastiny Fire 
at Baku. 

Note 120, p. 77. By which the prostrate Caravan is rtic'J. 

Savary says of the south wind, which blows in Kgypt from 
February to May, " Sometimes it appears only in the shape of an 
impetuous whirlwind, which passes rapidly, and is fatal to the 
traveller surprised in the middle of the deserts. Torrents of burn- 
ing sand roll before it, the firmament is enveloped in a thick veil, 
and the sun appears of the color of blood. Sometimes whole cara- 
vans are buried in it." 

Note 121, p. 77. The Champions of the Faith throiiyh UKDKK'H 

In the preat victor)' gained by Mahomed at Heder, he was 
assisted, say the Mussulmans, by three thousand angels, led by 
Gabriel, mounted on his horse Hia/.um. (See The Koran an<l it* 

Note !', p. 70. " Alia AUmr!" 

The Teehir. or cry of the Arabs. " Alia Arbar! " says Ockley, 
means "God is most mighty." 

252 NOTES. 

Note 123, p. 79. And light your shrines and chant your 

The ziraleet is a kind of chorus, which the women of the East 
sing upon joyful occasions. Russel. 

Note 124, p. 79. Or warm or brighten, like that Syrian 

The Dead Sea, which contains neither animal nor vegetable life. 

Note 125, p. 80. O'er his lost throne then pass'd the 
JWOTX'S flood. 

The ancient Oxus. 

Note 126, p. 80. Eais'd the white banner within NEKSHEB'S 

A city of Transoxiana. 

Note 127, p. 81. To-day's young flower is springing in its 

" You never can cast your eyes on this tree, but you meet there 
either blossoms or fruit; and as the blossoms drop underneath 
on the ground (which is frequently covered with these purple- 
colored flowers), others come forth in their stead," etc., etc. 

Note 128, p. 81. With which the Dives have gifted him. 
The Demons of the Persian mythology. 

Note 129, p. 81. That spangle INDIA'S fields on showery 

Carreri mentions the fire-flies in India during the rainy seasons. 
(See his Travels. ) 

Note 130, p. 82. Who brush'd the thousands of the Assyrian 

Sennacherib, called by the Orientals King of Moussal. D'Her- 

Note 131, p. 82. Of PARVIZ. 

Chosroes. For the description of his Throne or Palace, see 
Gibbon and D'Herbelot. 

There were said to be under this Throne or Palace of Khosrou 
Parviz a hundred vaults filled with " treasures so immense that 
some Mahometan writers tell us, their Prophet, to encourage hw 

NOTES. 253 

disciples, carried them to a rock, which, at his command, opened, 
and gave them a prospect through it of the treasures of Khosrou." 
Universal History. 

Note 132, p. 82. And the heron crest that shone. 

"The crown of Gerashid is cloudy and tarnished before the 
heron tuft of thy turban." From one of the elegies or songs in 
praise of Ali, written in characters of gold round the gallery of 
Abbas's tomb. (See Chardin.) 

Note 133, p. 82. Magnificent, o'er AM'S beauteous eyes. 

The beauty of Ali's eyes was so remarkable that whenever the 
Persians would describe anything as very lovely, they say it is 
Ayn Hali, or the Eyes of Ali. Chardin. 

Note 134, p. 83. Rise from the Holy Well, and cast its li<jht. 

We are not told more of this trick of the Impostor than that it 
was " une machine qu'il disoit etre la Lune." According to IJich- 
ardson, the miracle is perpetuated in Nekscheb. " Nakshab, the 
name of a city in Transoxiana, where they say there is a well, in 
which the appearance of the moon is to be seen night and day." 

Note 135, p. 83. lionnd the rich city and the plain for miles. 

" II amusa pendant deux mois le peuple de la ville de Nekscheb, 
en faisant sortir toutes les nuits du fond d'un puits un corps lumi- 
neux semblable a la Lune, qui portoit sa lumiere jusqu'a la dis- 
tance de plusieiirs milles." I)' Hrrbelot. Hence he was called 
Sazende'hinah, or the Moon-maker. 

Note 130, p. 83. Had rested on the Ark: 

The Shechinali, called Sakinat in the Koran. (See Sale's Note, 
chap, ii.) 

Note 137, p. 83. Of the small drum icith which they count the 

The parts of the night are made known as well by instruments 
of music, as by the rounds of the watchmen with cries and small 
drums. (See Murder's Oriental Cimtoinn, vol. i. p. 1H>.) 

Note 138, p. 83. On for tht> linni>n. that li'i/it yon lofty screen. 

The Serrapunla. high screens of rrtl cloth, stiffened with cane, 
used to enclose a considerable space round the royal tents. Xotc* 
on the liahardanimh. 

The tents of I'rinces were generally illuminated. Norden tells 

254 NOTES. 

us that the tent of the Bey of Girge was distinguished from the 
other tents by forty lanterns being suspended before it. (See 
Banner's Observations on Job). 

Note 139, p. 84. Pour to the spot, like bees of KAUZEROON. 

"From the groves of orange-trees at Kauzeroon the bees cull a 
celebrated honey." Morier's Travels. 

Note 140, p. 85. Of nuptial pomp, she sinks into his tide. 

" A custom still subsisting at this day seems to me to prove that 
the Egyptians formerly sacrificed a young virgin to the God of the 
Nile; for they now make a statue of earth in shape of a girl, to 
which they give the name of the Betrothed Bride, and throw it into 
the river." Savary. 

Note 141, p. 86. Engines of havoc in, unknown 'before. 

That they knew the secret'of the Greek fire among the Mussul- 
mans early in the eleventh century, appears from Dow's Account 
of Mamood I. " When he arrived at Moultan, finding that the 
country of the Jits was defended by great rivers, he ordered fifteen 
hundred boats to be built, each of which he armed with six iron 
spikes, projecting from their prows and sides, to prevent their be- 
ing boarded by the enemy, who were very expert in that kind of 
war. When he had launched this fleet, he ordered twenty archers 
into each boat, and five others with fire-balls, to burn the craft of 
the Jits, and naphtha to set the whole river on fire." 

The agnee aster, too, in Indian poems the Instrument of Fire, 
whose flame cannot be extinguished, is supposed to signify the 
Greek fire. (See Wilks's South of India, vol. i. p. 471.) And in 
the curious Javan Poem, the Brata Yudha, given by Sir Stamford 
Raffles in his History of Java, we find, " He aimed at the heart of 
Soeta with the sharp-pointed Weapon of Fire." 

The mention of gunpowder as in use among the Arabians, long 
before its supposed discovery in Europe, is introduced by Ebn 
Fad hi, the Egyptian geographer, who lived in the thirteen century. 
Bodies, he says, " in the form of scorpions, bound round and 
filled with nitrous powder, glide along, making a gentle noise; 
then, exploding, they lighten, as it were, and burn. But there are 
others which, cast into the air, stretch along like a cloud, roaring 
horribly, as thunder roars, and on all sides vomiting out flames, 
burst, burn, and reduce to cinders whatever comes in their way." 
The historian Ben Abdalla, in speaking of the sieges of Abulualid 

NOTES. 055 

In the year of the Hegira 712, says, " A fiery globe, by means of 
combustible matter, with a mighty noise suddenly emitted, strikes 
with the force of lightning, and shakes the citadel." (See the ex- 
tracts from Casiri's Biblioth. Arab. Ilispan. in the Appendix to 
Berington's Literary History of the Middle Ayt'*.) 

Note 142, p. 86. And horrible as new ; javelins that fly. 

The Greek fire, that was occasionally lent by the emperors to 
their allies. " It was," says Gibbon, "either launched in red-hot 
balls of stone and iron, or darted in arrows or javelins, t'.visted 
round with flax and tow, which had deeply imbibed the inflamma- 
ble oil." 

Note 143, p. 86. Discharge, as from a kindled Naphtha fount. 
See Hanway's Account of the Sprint/ 8 of Naphtha at liitku 
(which is called by Lieutenant Pottinger " Joala Mokee," or the 
Flaming Mouth) taking fire and running into the st>a. Dr. Cooke, 
in his Journal, mentions some wells in Circassia, strongly impreg- 
nated with this inflammable oil, from which issues boiling water. 
"Though the weather," he adds, " was now very cold, the warmth 
of these wells of hot water produced near them the verdure and 
flowers of spring." 

Major Scott Waring says, that naphtha is used by the Persians, 
as we are told it was in hell, for lamps. 

" many a row 

Of starry lamps and blazing cressets, fed 
With naphtha and asphaltus, yielding light 
As from a sky." 

Note 144, p. 86. Like those icild birds (hat by (he Mayiar* 

" At the grrat festival of (ire. c:illi>d the Shel> Sex.e, they used to 
set fire to large bunches of dry combustibles, fastened round wiid 
beasts and birds, which being then let loose, the air and earih 
appeared one great illumination; and as these terrified creatures 
naturally lied to the woods for shelter, it is easy to conceive the 
conflagrations they produced." Itichardnon'a Dlmtertution, 

Note 143, p 88. Keep, aral'd irith prrciona iimxk, for thvae 
they lore. 

" The righteous shall be given to drink of pure wine, sealed; the 
seal whereof shall be musk." Kurau, chap. Ixxxiii. 

256 NOTES. 

Note 146, p. 90. Chi Us own brood; no Demon of the Waste. 

" The Afghauns believe each of the numerous solitudes and 
deserts of their country to be inhabited by a lonely demon, whom 
they call the Ghoolee Beeabau, or Spirit of the Waste. They often 
illustrate the wildness of any sequestered tribe, by saying, They 
are wild as the Demon of the Waste." El^hinstone's Caubul. 

Note 147, p. 91. With burning drugs, for this last hour dis- 

" II donna dn poison dans le vin a tous ses gens, et se jeta lui- 
meme ensuite dans une cuve pleine de drogues briilantes et consu- 
mantes, afin qu'il ne restat rien de tous les meinbres de son corps, 
et que ceux qui restoient de sa secte pussent croire qu'il etoit 
monte au ciel, ce qui ne manqua pas d'arriver." D'Herbelot. 

Note 148, p. 92. In the lone Cities of the Silent dwell. 

"They have all a great reverence for burial-grounds, which 
they sometimes call by the poetical name of Cities of the Silent, 
and which they people with the ghosts of the departed, who sit 
each at the head of his own grave, invisible to mortal eyes." 

Note 149, p. 97. And to eat any mangoes but those of Maza- 
gong was, of course, impossible. " The celebrity of Alazagong is 
owing to its mangoes, which are certainly the best fruit I ever 
tasted. The parent tree, from which all those of this species have 
been grafted, is honored during the fruit-season by a guard of 
sepoys; and, in the reign of Shah Jehan, couriers were stationed 
between Delhi and the Mahratta coast to secure an abundant and 
fresh supply of mangoes for the royal table." Mrs. Graham's 
Journal of a Residence in India. 

Note 150, p. 97. Laden with his fine antique porcelain. 
This old porcelain is found in digging, and "if it is esteemed, it is 
not because it has acquired any new degree of beauty in the earth, 
but because it has retained its ancient beauty; and this alone is of 
great importance in China, where they give large sums for the 
smallest vessels which were used tinder the Emperors Yan and 
Chun, who reigned many ages before the dynasty of Tang, at which 
time porcelain began to be used by the Emperors " (about the year 
442). Dunn's Collection of curious Observations, etc.; a bad 
translation of some parts of the Lettt es $d\fiantes et curieuses of 
the Missionary Jesuits. 

NOTES. 257 

Note 151, p. 98. And if Nasser, the Arabian merchant, told 
no better. " La lecture de ces Fables plaisoit si fort aux Arabcs, 
que, quand Mahomet les entretenoit de 1'IIistoire de 1'Ancien Tes- 
tament, ils la meprisoient, lui disant que celles que Nasser leur 
racontoit etoient beaucoup plus belles. Cette preference attira a 
Nasser la malediction de Mahomet et de tous ses disciples." 

Note 152, p. 99. Like the blacksmith's apron converted into a 
banner. The blacksmith Gao, who successfully resisted the tyrant 
Zohak and whose apron became the Koyal Standard of Persia. 

Note 153, p. 100. That xnblime bird, which flies always in the 
air, and never touches the earth. " The Huma, a bird peculiar to 
the East. It is supposed to fly constantly in the air, and never 
touch the ground: it is looked upon as a bird of happy omen; and 
that every head it overshades will in time wear a crown." liich- 

In the terms of alliance made by Fuzzel Oola Khan with Hyder 
in 17(50, one of the stipulations was, " that he should have the dis- 
tinction of two honorary attendants standing behind him, holding 
fans composed of the feathers of the Humma, according to the 
practice of his family." Wilk^s Smith of India. He adds in a 
note: " The Humma is a fabulous bird. The head over which 
its shadow once passes will assuredly be circled with a crown. The 
splendid little bird suspended over the throne of Tippoo Sultaun, 
found at Seringapatam in 171*9, was intended to represent this 
poetical fancy." 

Note 154, p. 101. Like those on the Written Mnitntiiin, lastfor- 
erer. " To the pilgrims to Mount Sinai we inns' attribute the 
inscriptions, figures, etc.. on those rocks, whirh have from thence 
acquired the name of the Written Mountain." Volm-y. M. (Jebe- 
lin and others have been at much pains to attach some mysterious 
and important meaning to these inscriptions; but Niebiilir, as well 
as Volney. thinks that they must have been executed at idle hours 
by thi 1 travellers to Mount Sinai, " who were satisfied with cutting 
the iin|H>l:shcd rock with any pointed instrument: adding to thHr 
names and the date of their journeys some rude figures, which lie- 
speak the hand of a people but little skilled in the arts." \itbuhr. 

Note 155, p. 101. Like the Old M<in of tin- &a, upon his back. 
The. Story of binbad. 

258 NOTES. 

Note 156, p. 101. To which Hafez compares his mistress's hair. 
See Nott's Hafez, Ode v. 

Note 157, p. 101. To the Camalata, by whose rosy blossoms the 
heaven of Indra is scented. " The Camalata (called by Linnaeus, 
Iponuea) is the most beautiful of its order, both in the color and 
form of its leaves and flowers; its elegant blossoms are 'celestial 
rosy red, Love's proper hue,' and have justly procured it the name 
of Camalata, or Love's Creeper." Sir W. Jones. 

" Camalata may also mean a mythological plant by which all 
desires are granted to such as inhabit the heaven of Indra; and if 
ever flower was worthy of Paradise, it is our charming Ipomsea." 
Sir W. Jones. 

Note 158, p. 101. That flower-loving nymph whom they wor- 
ship in the temples of Kathay. " According to Father Premare, 
in his tract on Chinese Mythology, the mother of Fo-hi was the 
daughter of heaven, surnamed Flower-loving; and as the nymph 
was walking alone on the bank of a river, she found herself encir- 
cled by a rainbow, after which she became pregnant, and, at the 
end of twelve years, was delivered of a son radiant as herself." 
Asiatic Researches. 

Note 159, p. 103. With its plane-tree Isle reflected clear. 

" Numerous small islands emerge from the Lake of Cashmere. 
One is called Char Chenaur, from the plane-trees upon it." 

Note ICO, p. 103. And the golden floods that thitherward stray. 

" The Altan Kol or Golden River of Tibet, which runs into the 
Lakes of Sing-su-hay, has abundance of gold in its sands, which 
employs the inhabitants all the summer ingathering it." Pinker- 
ton 1 s Description of Tibet. 

Note 161, p. 104. Blooms nowhere but in Paradise. 

"The Brahmins of this .province insist that the blue campac 
flowers only in Paradise." Sir W. Jones. It anpoars, however, 
from a curious letter of the Sultan of Menangcabow, given by 
Marsden, that one place on earth may lay claim to the possession 
of it. " This is the Sultan, who keeps the flower champaka that 
is blue, and to be found in no other country but his, being yellow 
elsewhere." Marsden' s Sumatra. 

Note 162, p. 104. Flung at night from angel hands. 

" The Mahometans suppose that falling stars are the firebrands 


wherewith the good angels drive away the had, when they approach 
too near the empyrean or verge of the heavens." Fryer, 

Note 163, p. 105. Beneath the pillars of CHILMINAR. 

The Forty Pillars; so the Persians call the ruins of Persepolis. 
It is imagined by them that this palace and the edifices at Balbec 
were built by Genii, for the purpose of hiding in their subter- 
raneous caverns immense treasures, which still remain there. (See 
D'Herbelot and Volney. ) 

Note 164, p. 105. To the ^outh of sun-bright Araby. 

The Isles of Panchaia. 

Diodorus mentions the Isle of Panchaia, to the sotith of Arabia 
Felix, where there was a temple of Jupiter. This island, or rather 
cluster of isles, has disappeared, "sunk (says Grandpre) in the 
abyss made by the fire beneath their foundations." Voyage to the 
Indian Ocean. 

165, p. 105. ThejeweWd cup of their King JAMSHID. 
" The cup of Jamshid, discovered, they say, when digging for 
the foundations of Persepolis." Richardson. 

Mote 10(5. p. 105. O'er coral rocks, and amber beds. 

" It is not like the Sea of India, whose bottom is rich with pearls 
and ambergris, whose mountains of the coast are stored with 
gold and precious stones, whose gulfs breed creatures that yield 
ivory, and among the plants of whose shores are ebony, red wood, 
and the wood of llaiizan, aloes, camphor, cloves, sandal-wood, and 
all other spices and aromatics: where parrots and peacocks are 
birds of the forest, and musk and civet are collected upon the 
lands." Travels of Two Mohammedans. 

Note 107, p. 105. Thy Pajodn and thy pillur'd shades. 
......... " in the ground 

The bended twigs take root, and daughters grow 

About the mother-tree, a ]iillar'<l nhti<lc, 

High over-areh'd, and echoing walks between." Mii.TON. 

For a particular description and plate of the lianyan-lrce, see 
Cordiner's fry Ion. 

Note 1*W. p. 105. Tin/ if onarcha and their Thousand Thrones. 

"With this irnmen e treaure M.unooil returned to (ihizni, and 

in the year 400 prepared a magnificent festival, where he dis- 

260 NOTES. 

played to the people his wealth in golden thrones and in other 
ornaments, in a great plain without the city of Ghizni." Fa- 

Note 169, p. 106. Tis he of Gazna fierce in wrath. 

" Malmiood of Gazna, or Ghizni, who conquered India in the 
beginning of the eleventh century." (See his history in Uow and 
Sir J. Malcolm.) 

Note 170, p. 106. Of many a young and loc'd Sultana. 

" It is reported that the hunting equipage of the Sultan Mah- 
mood was so magnificent that he kept 400 greyhounds and blood- 
hounds, each of which wore a collar set with jewels, and a cover- 
ing edged with gold and pearls." Universal History, vol. iii. 

Note 171, p. 107. -For Liberty shed, so holy is. 

Objections may be made to my use of the word Liberty in 
this, and more especially in the story that follows it, as totally in- 
applicable to any state of things that has ever existed in the East; 
but though I cannot, of course, mean to employ it in that en- 
larged and noble sense which is so well understood at the present 
day, and, I grieve to say, so little acted upon, yet it is no dispar- 
agement to the word to apply it to that national independence, 
that freedom from the interference and dictation of foreigners, 
without which, indeed, no liberty of any kind can exist; and for 
which both Hindoos and Persians fought against their Mussulman 
invaders with, in many cases, a bravery that deserved much better 

Note 172, p. 107. Now among AFRIC'S lunar Mountains. 

" The Mountains of the Moon, or the Monies Lunse of an- 
tiquity, at the foot of which the Nile is supposed to rise." Bruce. 

"Sometimes called," says Jackson, "Jibbel Kumrie, or the 
white or lunar-colored mountains; so a white horse is called by the 
Arabians a moon-colored horse." 

Note 173, p. 107. And hail the new-born Giant's smile. 
"The Nile, which the Abyssinians know by the names of Abey 
and Alawy, or the Giant." Asiatic Researches, vol. i. p. 387. 

Note 174, p. 107. Her grots, and sepulchres of Kings. 

See Perry's View of the Levant for an account of the sepulchres 
in Upper Thebes, and the numberless grots, covered all over with 
hieroglyphics, in the mountains of Upper Egypt. 

NOTES. 261 

Note 175, p. 107. In warm ROSETTA'S rale now loves. 
" The orchards of Rosetta are filled with turtle-doves." Son- 

Note 176, p. 108. The azure calm of M<EUIS' Lake. 
Savary mentions the pelicans upon Lake Moeris. 

Note 177, p. 108. Warns them to their silken beds, 

"The superb date-tree, whose head languidly reclines, like 

that of a handsome woman overcome with sleep." Dafard el 


Note 178, p. 108. Some purple-winy* d Sultana sitting. 

" That beautiful bird, with plumage of the finest shining blue, 
with purple beak and legs, the natural and living ornament of the 
temples and palaces of the Greeks and Romans, which, from the 
stateliness of its port, as well as the brilliancy of its colors, has 
obtained the title of Sultana." Sonnini. 

Note 170, p. 109. Only the fierce hyaena stalks. 

Jackson, speaking of the plague that occurred in West Bar- 
bary, when he was thi:re, says, ''The birds of the air fled away 
from the abodes of men. The hyienas, on the contrary, visited the 
cemeteries," etc. 

Note 180, p. 10!). Throughout the city's desolate icalks. 

" Gondar was full of hyaenas from the time it turned dark till 
the dawn of day, seeking the different pieces of slaughtered car- 
casses which this cruel and unclean people expose in the streets 
without burial, and who firmly believe that these animals are Ka- 
lashta from the neighboring mountains, transformed by magic, and 
come down to eat human llesh in the dark in safety." Hrurc. 

Note 181, p. 100. The glaring of those large blue eyes. Hruce. 

Note 182, p. 110. lint see who yonder comes by nlcallh. 

This circumstance has been often introduced into poetry. by 
Vincent ius Fabrieius, by Darwin, and lately, with very powerful 
effect, by Mr. Wilson. 

Note 183, p. 112. Who slugs at the last his own death-lay. 

" In the they suppose the I'lm ni\ to have fifty orifuvs in 
his bill, whieh are continued to his t.ii 1 ; and that, after living one 

262 NOTES. 

thousand years, he builds himself a funeral pile, sings a melodious 
air of different harmonies through his fifty organ pipes, flaps his 
wings with a velocity which sets fire to the wood, and consumes 
himself." Richardson. 

Note 184, p. 113. Their first sweet draught of glory take. 

" On the shore? of a quadrangular lake stand a thousand gob- 
lets, made of stars, out of which souls predestined to enjoy felicity 
drink the crystal wave." From Chate-.ubriand's Description of the 
Mahometan Paradise in his Beauties of Christianity. 

Note 185, p. 113. Now, upon SYRIA'S land of roses. 

Richardson thinks that Syria had its name from Suri, a beautiful 
and delicate species of rose, for which that country has been always 
famous; hence, Suristan, the Laud of Roses. 

Note*186, p. 114. Gay lizards, glittering on the walls. 

" The number of lizards I saw one day in the great court of the 
Temple of the Sun at Balbec amounted to many thousands; the 
ground, the walls, and stones of the ruined buildings, were covered 
with them." Bruce. 

Note 187, p. 114. Of shepherd's ancient reed. 
" The Syrinx, or Pan's pipe, is still a pas-toral instrument in 
Syria." Bussel. 

Note 188, p. 114. Of the wild bees of PALESTINE. 

" Wild bees, frequent in Palestine, in hollow trunks or branches 
of trees, and the clefts of rocks. Thus it is said (Psalm Ixxxi. ), 
' honey out of the stony rock.' " Burdens Oriental Ciistoms. 

Note 189, p. 114. And woods, so full of nightingales. 

"The river Jordan is on both sides beset with little, thick, and 
pleasant woods, among which thousands of nightingales warble all 
together." Thevenot. 

Note 190, p. 114. On that great Temple, once his own. 
The Temple of the Sun at Balbec. 

Note 191, p. 115. The beautiful blue damsel flies. 

" You behold there a considerable number of a remarkable spe- 
cies of beautiful insects, the elegance of whose appearance and 
their attire procured for them the name of Damsels." Sonnini. 

NOTES. 263 

Note 192, p. 115. Of a small imarefs rustic fount. 

Imaret, "hospice oh on loge et nourrit, gratis, les pelerins pen- 
dant trois jours." Toderini, translated by the Abbe de Cournand. 
(See also Castellan's Mceurs des Othomans, torn. v. p. 145.) 

Note 193, p. 116. Kneels, with Ids forehead to the south. 

" Such Turks as at the common hours of prayer are on the road, 
or so employed as not to find convenience to attend the mosques, 
are still obliged to execute that duty; nor are they ever known to 
fail, whatever business they are then about, but pray immediately 
when the hour alarms them, whatever they are about, in that very 
place they chance to stand on; insomuch that when a janissary, 
whom you have to guard you up and down the city, hears the notice 
which is given him from the steeples, he will turn about, stand still, 
and beckon with his hand, to tell his charge he must have patience 
fora while; when, taking out his handkerchief, he spreads it on 
the ground, sits cross-legged thereupon, and says his prayers, though 
in the open market, which having ended, he leaps briskly up, sa- 
lutes the person whom he undertook to convey, and renews his 
journey with the mild expression of Glie II ghonnum yhell, or, Come, 
dear, follow me." Aaron HilVs Travels. 

Note 194, p. 117. Upon EGYPT'S land, of so healing a power. 

The Nucta, or Miraculous Drop, which falls in Egypt precisely 
on St. John's Day, in June, and is supposed to have the effect of 
stopping the plague. 

Note 10"), p. 118. Are the diamond turrets of SIIATU'KIAM. 

The Country of Delight the name of a province in the king- 
dom of Jinnistan, or Fairy Land, the capital of which is called the 
City of Jewels. Amberabad is another of the cities of Jinnistan. 

Note 190, p. 118. Myfeaxt is now of the Tooba Tree. 

The tree Tooba, that stands in Paradise, in the palace of Ma- 
homet. See Sale's t'relim. Dixr. Tooba, says D'Herbrlot, signi- 
fies beatitude, or eternal happiness. 

Note 197, p. 118. To the luff-tree, />n'nf/inf/ by AI.I.A'S throne. 

Mahomet is described, in the Md chapter of the Koran, as hav- 
ing seen the Angel (Jabrid " by the lote-tree, beyond wiiich there 
is no passing: near it is the (larden of Eternal Abode." This 
tree, say the coimiifiitators, stands in the seventh Heaven, on the 
right hand of the Throne of God. 

264 NOTES. 

Note 108, p. 119. As the hundred and twenty thousand streams 
of Basra. " It is said that the rivers or streams of Basra were 
reckoned in the time of Pelal ben Abi Bordeh, and amounted to 
the number of one hundred and twenty thousand streams." 
Ebn Haukal. 

Note 199, p. 119. Who, like them, flan;/ the jereed carelessly. 
The name of the javelin with which the Easterns exercise. (See 
Castellan, Mozurs des Othomans, torn. iii. p. 161.) 

Note 200, p. 120. The Banyan Hospital. " This account 
excited a desire of visiting the Banyan Hospital, as 1 had heard 
much of their benevolence to all kinds of animals that were either 
sick, lame, or infirm, through age or accident. On my arrival, 
there were presented to my view many horses, cows, and oxen, in 
one apartment; in another, dogs, sheep, goats, and monkoys, with 
clean straw for them to repose on. Above stairs were depositories 
for seeds of many sorts, and flat, broad dishes for water, for the use 
of birds and insects." Parsons'* Travels. 

It is said that all animals know the Banyans, that the most timid 
approach them, and that birds will fly nearer to them than to other 
people. (See Grandpre.) 

Note 201, p. 120. Like that of the fragrant grass near the 
Ganges. " A very fragrant grass from the banks of the Ganges, 
near Heridwar, which in some places covers whole acres, and dif- 
fuses, when crushed, a strong odor." Sir W. Jones, on the Spike- 
nard of the Ancients. 

Note 202, p. 120. No one had ever yet reached its summit. 
" Near this is a curious hill, called Koh Talism, the Mountain of 
the Talisman, because, according to the traditions of the country, 
no person ever succeeded in gaining its summit." Kinneir. 

Note 203, p. 122. Is warmed into life by the eyes alone. "The 
Arabians believe that the ostriches hatch their young by only look- 
ing at them." P. Vanslebe, Kelat. d'Eyypte. 

Note 204, p. 122. And then lost them again forever. See 
Sale's Koran, note, vol. ii. p. 484. 

Note 205, p. 122. While the artisans in chariots. Oriental 

Note 206, p. 122. Who kept waring over their heads plates of 
gold an'l silver flowers, Ferishta. "Or rather," says Scott, upon 

NOTES. 265 

the passage of Ferislita, from which this is taken, " smail coins, 
stamped with the figure of a flower. They are still used in India to 
distribute in charity, and, on occasion, thrown by the purse-bearers 
of the great among the populace." 

Note 207, p. 123. Alley of trees. The fine road made by the 
Emperor Jehan-Guire from Agra to Lahore, planted with trees on 
each side. This road is 250 leagues in length. It has " little pyra- 
mids or turrets," says Bernier, " erected every half league, to mark 
the ways, and frequent wells to afford drink to passengers, and to 
water the young trees." 

No:e 208, p. 124. That favorite tree of the luxurious bird that 
li'/hts M/> the chambers of its next icith fire-flies. The Baya, or 
Indian Grosbeak. Sir W. Jones. 

Note 209, p. 124. On the clear cold waters of ichich floated 
multitudes of the benuflfttl red lotus. " Here is a large pagoda by 
a tank, on the water of which float multitudes of the beautiful red 
lotus; the flower is larger than that of the white water-lily, and is 
the most lovely of the nymphreas I have seen." Mrs. Graham's 
Journal of a Residence in India. 

Note 210, p. 125. Had fled hither fror.i their Arab conquerors. 
" On les voit persecutes par les Khalifes se retirer dans les mon- 
tagnes du Kerman : plusieurs choisircnt pour retraite laTartarieet 
la Chine; d'autrcs s'arretcrent sur les Lords du Gauge, a Test de 
Delhi." 37. Awjuetil, Memoires de I'Acadt'inie, torn. xxxi. p. 346. 

Note 211, p. 125. Like their own F!re in the Burininj Field at 
liAKOL". The " Ager ardens " described by Kaempfer, Amamitat. 

Note 212, p. 12-". TJir prey of stranr/rrs. " Cashmere (says 
its historians) had its own princes 4000 years before its conquest 
by Akbar in 15S5. Akhar would have found sonic difficulty to 
reduce this paradise of the Indies, situated as it is within such a 
fortress of mountains, but its monarch Yuscf Khan, was basely 
betrayed by his Omrahs." 1'ennant. 

Note 213, p. 120. Firc-ict>rliii>]nr*. Voltaire tells us that 
iti his Tragedy, " l.cs Guebres," he was generally Mipposed to have 
alluded to the Jansenists. I should not be surprised if thi< story 
of the Fire- worshipper, were found capable of a similar doulileness 
of application. 

266 NOTES. 

Note 214, p. 127. 'Tis moonlight over OMAN'S Sea. 
The Persian Gulf, sometimes so called, which separates the 
shores of Persia and Arabia. 

Note 215, p. 127. Tis moonlight in HARSIOZIA'S walls. 
The present Gombaroon, a town on the Persian side of the 

Note 216, p. 127. Of trumpet and the clash of zel. 
A Moorish instrument of music. 

Note 217, p. 127. The wind-tower on the EMIK'S dome. 

" At Gombaroon and other places in Persia,they have towers for 
the purpose of catching the wind, and cooling the houses." Le 

Note 218, p. 127. His race hath brought on IRAN'S name. 

" Iran is the true general name for the empire of Persia." 
Asiatic Researches, Disc. 5. 

Note 219, p. 128. Engraven on his reeking sword. 
" On the blades of their scimitars some verse from the Koran 
is usually inscribed." Eussel. 

Note 220, p. 128. Draw venom forth that drives men mad. 

" There is a kind of Rhododendron about Trebizond whose 
flowers the bee feeds upon, and the -honey thence drives people 
mad." Tournefort. 

Note 221, p. 129. Upon the turban of a king. 
" Their kings wear plumes of black herons' feathers upon the 
right side as a badge of sovereignty." Hanway. 

Note 222, p. 129. Springing in a desolate mountain. 
" The Fountain of Youth, by a Mahometan tradition, is situ- 
ated in some dark region of the East." Richardson. 

Note 223, p. 130. On summer-eves, through YEMEN'S dales. 
Arabia Felix. 

Note 224, p. 130. 117(0, lulFd in cool kiosk or bower. 
"In the midst of the garden is the chiosk, that is, a large 
room, commonly beautified with a fine fountain in the midst of it. 

NOTES. 267 

It is raised nine or ten steps, and enclosed with gilded lattices, 
round which vines, jessamines, and honeysuckles make a sort of 
green wall; large trees are planted round this place, which is the 
scene of their greatest pleasures." Lady M. W. Montagu. 

Note 225, p. 130. Before their mirrors count the time. 
The women of the East are never without their looking-glasses. 
"In Barbary," says Shaw, "they are so fond of their looking- 
glasses, which they hang upon their breasts, that they will not lay 
them aside, even when, after the drudgery of the day, they are 
obliged to go two or three miles with a pitcher or a goat's skin to 
fetch water/' Travels. 

In other parts of Asia they wear little looking-glasses on their 
thumbs. " Hence (and from the lotus being considered the emblem 
of beauty) is the meaning of the following mute intercourse of two 
lovers before their parents: 

" ' He, with salute of deference due, 

A lotus to his forehead prest; 
She rais'd her mirror to his view, 

Then turn'd it inward to her breast.' " 
Asiatic Miscellany, vol. ii. 

Note 226, p. 131. Upon the emerald's tiryin blaze. 

" They say that if a snake or serpent fix his eyes on the lustre 
01 those stones (emeralds), he immediately becomes blind." 
Ahmed lien Abdalaziz, Treatise on Jewels. 

Note 227, p. 131. After the day beam's withering fire. 

" At Gombaroon and the Isle of Onnus, it is sometimes so hot 
that the people are obliged to lie all d;iy in the water." Marco 

Note 228, p. 132. Of ARARAT'S tremendous 

This mountain is generally supposed to ht> inaccessible. Stniy 
MJ8, " I can well assure the reader that their opinion is not true, 
who suppose this mount to be Inaccessible." He adds, " the 
lower part of the mountain is cloudy, misty, and dark; the middle- 
most part very cold, and like clouds of snow; but the upper regions 
perfectly calm." It was on this mountain that the Ark was sup- 
posed to have rested after the IMugo. and part of it, they say, ex- 
ists there still, which Struy thus gravely account M fr: " Whereas 
none can remember that the air on the top of the lull did ever 

268 NOTES. 

change or was subject, either to wind v>r rain, which is presumed to 
be the reason that the Ark has endured so long without being rot- 
ten." (See Carreri's Travels, where the Doctor laughs at this 
whole account of Mount Ararat. ) 

Note 229, p. 132. The Bridegroom, with his locks of light. 

In one of the hooks of the Shah Nameh, when Zal (a celebrated 
hero of Persia, remarkable for his white hair) comes to the terrace 
of his mistress Rodahver at night, she lets down her long tresses 
to assist him in his ascent; he, however, manages it in a less 
romantic way, by fixing his crook in a projecting beam. (See 
Champion's Ferdosi.) 

Note 230, p. 133. The rock-goats of ARABIA clamber. 
"On the lofty hills of Arabia Petrsea are rock-goats." Nie~ 

Note 231, p. 133. Some ditty to her soft Kanoon. 

"Canun, espece de psaltdrion, avec des eord^* de boyaux; les 
dames en touchent dans le serail, avec des ecailles rmees de pointes 
de cooc." Toderini, translated by De Coumund* 

Note 232, p. 137. The Ghcber belt that rounu, \im cluny. 

"They (the Ghebers) lay so much stress on 'heir cushee or 
girdle, as not to dare to be an instant without it." Grose's Voy- 
age. " Le jeunehomme nia d'abord la chose; mais, ayant ete de- 
pouille de sa robe, et la large ceinture qu'il portoit comme Gliebr." 
etc., etc. D'Herbelot, art. Agdnani. "Pour se distinguer des 
Idolatres de 1'Inde, les Guebres se ceignent tous d'un cordon de 
iaine, ou de poil de chameau." Encyclopedic Franqoise. 

D'Herbelot says this belt was generally of leather. 

Note 233, p. 138. Among the living lights of heaven. 
" They suppose the Throne of the Almighty is seated in the sun, 
and hence their worship of that luminary." Hanway. " As to 
fire, the Ghebers place the spring-head of it in that globe of fire, 
the Sun, by them called Mythras, or Mihir, to which they pay the 
highest reverence, in gratitude for the manifold benefits flowing 
from its ministerial omniscience. But they are so far from con- 
founding the subordination of the Servant with the majesty of its 
Creator, that they not only attribute no sort of sense or reasoning 
to the sun or fire, in any of its operations, but consider it as a 
purely passive blind instrument, directed and governed Dy the iin- 

NOTES. 269 

mediate impression on it of the will of God: but they do not even 
give that luminary, all-glorious as it is, more than the second rank 
amongst His works, reserving the first for that stupendous produc- 
tion of divine power, the mind of man." Grose. The false 
charges brought against the religion of these people by their Mus- 
sulman tyrants is but one proof among many of the truth of this 
writer's remark, that " calumny is often added to oppression, if 
but for the sake of justifying it." 

Note 234, p. 139. And fiery darts, at intermix. 

" The Mameluks that were in the other boat, when it was dark, 
used to shoot up a sort of fiery arrows into the air, which in some 
measure resembled lightning or falling stars." Baumyarten. 

Note 235, p. 141. Which grows orer the tomb of the musician, 
Tan-Sein. " Within the enclosure which surrounds this monu- 
ment (at Gualior) is a small tomb to the memory of Tan-Sein, a 
musician of incomparable skill, wlio flourished at the court of Ak- 
bar. The tomb is overshadowed by a tree concerning which a 
superstitious notion prevails, that the chewing of its leaves will 
give an extraordinary melody to the voice." Narrative of a Jour- 
ney from Agra to Oitzein, by W. Hunter, Esq. 

Note 236, p. 141. The awful niijnalof the bamboo staff. " It 
Is usual to place a small white triangular fla<;, fixed to a bamboo 
staff of ten or twelve feet long, at the place where a tiger has de- 
stroyed a man. It is common for the passengers also to throw each 
a stone or brick near the spot, so that in the course of a little lime 
a pile equal to a good wagon-load is collected. The sight of these 
flags and piles of stones imparts a certain melancholy, not perhaps 
altogether void of apprehension." Oriental Fiflil S]>t-tx, vol. ii. 

Note 237, p. 141. Ornamented irith the most beautiful porce- 
lain. ''The Ficus Indica is called the Pagod Tree and Tree of 
Councils; the first, from the idols placed under its shade; the sec- 
ond, Iwcause meetings were held under its cool branches. In some 
places it is believed to be the haunt of sjwctres, as the ancient 
spreading oaks of Wales have been of fairies; in others are erected 
beneath the shade pillars of stone, or posts, elegantly carved, ami 
ornamented with the most beautiful porcelain to supply the use of 
mirrors." I'mnant. 

Note 2.TN. p. 142. /1i/ n'er the dreen Sra )>alrl>/ shines. 
The Persian (iulf. "To dive for pearls in the Green Sea, or 
Persian Gulf." Sir H*. Jones. 

270 NOTES. 

Note 239, p. 142. Bevealing BAHREIN'S groves of palm, 
And lighting KISHMA'S amber vines. 
Islands in the Gulf. 

Note 240, p. 142. Blow round SET.AMA'S sainted cape. 

Or Selemeh, the genuine name of the headland at the entrance 
of the Gulf, commonly called Cape Musseldom. " The Indians, 
when they pass the promontory, throw cocoa nuts, fruits, or 
flowers, into the sea, to secure a propitious voyage." Morier. 

Note 241, p. 142. The nightingale now bends her flight. 
"The nightingale sings from the pomegranate groves in the 
daytime, and from the loftiest trees at night." EusseVs Aleppo. 

Note 242, p. 142. The best and brightest scimitar. 

In speaking of the climate of Shiraz, Francklin says, " The dew- 
is of such a pure nature, that if the brightest scimitar should be 
exposed to it all night, it would not receive the least rust." 

Note 243, p. 143. Who, on CADESSIA'S bloody plains. 
The place where the Persians were finally defeated by the Arabs, 
and their ancient monarchy destroyed. 

Note 244, p. 143. Beyond the Caspian 's Iron Gates. 
Derbend. " Les Turcs appellent cette ville Demir Capi, Porte 
de Fer: ce sont les Caspise Porta? des anciens." D'Herbelot. 

Note 245, p. 143. They burst, like ZKII.AN'S giant palm. 

The Talpot or Talipot tree. " This beautiful palm-tree, which 
grows in the heart of the forests, may be classed among the loftiest 
trees, and becomes still higher when on the po'nt of bursting forth 
from its leafy summit. The sheath which then envelops the 
flower is very large, and, when it bursts, makes an explosion like 
the report of a cannon." Thunberg. 

Note 246, p. 145. Before whose sabre's dazzling light. 
" When the bright cimitars make the eyes of our heroes wink." 
The Moallakat, Poem of Amru. 

Note 247, p. 146. Sprung from those old enchanted kings. 

Tahmuras, and other ancient kings of Persia; whose adventures 
in Fairy-land among the Peris and Dives may be found in Richard- 
son's curious Dissertation. The griffin Simoorgh, they say, took 
some feathers from her breast for Tahmuras, with which he adorned 
his helmet, and transmitted them afterwards to his descendants. 

NOTES. 271 

Note 248, p. 146. Of sainted cedars on its banks. 

This rivulet, says Uandini, is called the Holy River, from the 
" cedar saints " among which it rises. 

In the Leltres Edijiantes, there is a different cause assigned for 
its name of iloly. "In these are deep caverns, which formerly 
served as so many cells for a great number of recluses, who liad 
chosen these retreats as the only witnesses upon earth of the sever- 
ity of their penance. The tears of these pious penitents gave the 
river of which we have just treated tlie name of the Holy River." 
See Chateaubriand's Beauties of Christianity. 

Note 249, p. 147. Of OMAN beetling awfully. 

This mountain is my own creation, as the "stupendous chain," 
of which I suppose it a link, does not extend quite so far as the 
shores of the Persian Gulf. " This long and lofty range of moun- 
tains formerly divided Media from Assyria, and now forms the 
boundary of the Persian and Turkish empires. It runs parallel 
with the river Tigris and Persian CJtilf, and, almost disappearing 
in the vicinity of Gomberoon (Hannozia), se<>m< once more to rise 
in the southern districts of Kerman, and following an easterly 
course through the centre of Meckraun and Balouchistan, is en- 
tirely lost in the deserts of Sinde." Kinneir's Persian Empire. 

Note 250, p. 148. That oft the sleeping albatross. 
These birds slo^p in the air. They are most common about the 
Cape of Good Hope. 

Note 251, p. 148. Beneath the Gheber's lonely cliff. 

"There is an extraordinary hill in this neighborhood, called 
Kohe Gubr, or the Guebre's mountain. It rises in the form of a 
lofty cupola, and on the summit of i'. they say, are the remains of 
an Atush Kudu, or Fire-Temple. It Is snperstitionsly held to be 
the residence of Deeves or Sprites, and many marvellous stories are 
recounted of the injury and witchcraft suffered by those who 
essayed in former days to ascend or explore it." I'uttinijtr's 

Note 2.VJ, p. 149. Of that rant mountain stood onjirc. 
The (ihebors generally built their temples over subterraneous 

Note 2~'.}, p. 149. Still did the iiii'/htif Jlamr burn on. 
"At the city of Yezd. in IVrsia, which is distinguished by tha 
appellation of thtt Darub Ahadut, or Scat of Religion, the Gueb.-es 

272 NOTES. 

are permitted to have an Atush Kudu, or Fire-Temple (which, they 
assert, has had the sacred fire in it since the days of Zoroaster), in 
their own compartment of the city; but for this indulgence they 
are indebted to the avarice, not the tolerance, of the Persian gov- 
ernment, which taxes them at twenty-five rupees each man." 
Pottinger's Beloochistan. 

Note 254, p. 150. The blood of ZAL and RUST AM rolls. 
Ancient heroes of Persia. " Among the Guebres there are some 
who boast their descent from Rustam." Stephen's Persia. 

Note 255, p. 150. Across the dark sea robber's way. 
See Russel's account of the panther's attacking travellers in the 
night on the sea-shore about the roots of Lebanon. 

Note 256, p. 151. The wandering Spirits of their Dead. 

" Among other ceremonies the Magi used to place upon the tops 
of high towers various kinds of rich viands, upon which it was 
supposed the Peris and the spirits of their departed heroes regaled 
themselves." Richardson. 

Note 257, p. 151. Nor charmed leaf of pure pomegranate. 

In the ceremonies of the Ghebres round their Fire, as described 
by Lord, "the Daroo," he says, "giveth them water to drink, and 
a pomegranate leaf to chew in the mouth, to cleanse them from 
inward uncleanness." 

Note 258, p. 151. Nor symbol of their worshipped planet. 

" Early in the morning, they (the Parsees or Ghebers at Oulam) 
go in crowds to pay their devotions to the Sun, to whom upon all 
the altars there are spheres consecrated, made by magic, resembling 
the circles of the sun, and when the sun rises these orbs seem to be 
inflamed, and to turn round with a great noise. They have every 
one a censer in their hands, and offer incense to the sun." Rabbi 

Note 259, p. 151. They swore the latest, holiest deed. 
" Nul d'entre eux oseroit se parjurer, quand il a pris & temoin 
cet element terrible et vengeur." Encyclopedic Franc.oi.te. 

Note 2GO, p. 151. The Persian lily shines and towers. 

" A vivid verdure succeeds the autumnal rains, and the ploughed 
fields are covered with the Persian lily, of a resplendent yellow 
color." Russel's Aleppo. 

VOTES. 273 

Note 261, p. 154. When toss'd at midnight furiously. 

"It is observed, with respect to the Sea of Herkeml, that when 
it is tossed by tempestuous winds it sparkles like fire." Travels 
of Two Mohammedans. 

Note 262, p. 154. Up, daughter, up the KEKXA'S breath. 

A kind of trumpet; it " was that used by Tamerlane, the sound 
of which is described as uncommonly dreadful, and so loud as to be 
beard at the distance of several miles." Richardson. 

Note 20:5, p. 155. Thou wor'st on OIIOD'S field of death. 

"Mohammed had two helmets, an interior and exterior one; the 
latter of which, called Al Mawashah, the fillet, wreath, or wreathed 
garland, he wore at the battle of Ohod." Universal History. 

Note 264, p. 150. But turn to ashes on the lips. 

They say that there are apple-trees upon the sides of this sea, 
which boar very lovely fruit, but within are all full of ashes. 
Thevenot. The same is asserted of the oranges there; tide Wit- 
man's Travels in Asiatic Turkey. 

41 The Asphalt Lake, known by the name of the Dead Sea, is 
very remarkable on account of the considerable proportion of salt 
which it contains. In this respect it surpasses every other known 
water on the surface of the earth. This great proportion of bitter- 
tasted salts is the reason why neither animal nor plant can live in 
this water." Klaproth's Chemical Analysis of the Water of the 
Dead Sea, Annals of Philosophy, January, 1813. Hasselquist, how- 
ever, doubts the truth of this last assertion, as there are shell-fish 
to be found in the lake. 

Lord Hyron has a similar allusion to the fruits of the Dead Sea, 
in that wonderful display of genius, his third canto of Child? 
llnrold. magnificent beyond anything, perhaps, that even he has 
ever written. 

Note 205, p. 150. While lake*, that, shone in mockery niyh. 

"The Stihrab, or Water of tlic Desert, is said to be caused by 
the rarefaction of the atmosphere from extreme heat; and, which 
augments the delusion, it is most frequent in hollows, where water 
might lx! expected to lodge. I have seen bushes and trees reflected 
in it with as much accuracy as though it had been the face of a clear 
and still lake." I'oHinijrr. 

44 As to the unbelievers, tbeir works are like a vapor in a plain 
which the thirsty traveller thiiikelli to In- water, until when lie 
comet h thereto he fmdeth it to be nothing." Kurun, chap. xxiv. 

274 NOlJiS. 

Note 266, p. 157. TJie Bidmusk had just passed over. "A 
wind which prevails in February, called Bidmusk, from a small and 
odoriferous flower of that name." " The wind which blows these 
flowers commonly lasts till the end of the month." Le Eruyn. 

Note 267, p. 157. The sea-gipsies, who live forever on the 
water. " The Biajus are of two races: the one is settled on Borneo, 
and are a rude but warlike and industrious nation, who reckon 
themselves the original possessors of the Island of Borneo. The 
other is a species of sea-gipsies or itinerant fishermen, who live in 
small covered boats, and enjoy a perpetual summer on the Eastern 
Ocean, shifting to leeward from island to island, with the variations 
of the monsocn. In some of their customs this singular race resem- 
ble the natives of the Maldivia islands. The Maldivians annually 
launch a small bark, loaded with perfumes, gums, flowers, and 
odoriferous wood, and turn it adrift at the mercy of winds and 
waves, as an offering to the Spirit of the Winds ; and sometimes 
similar offerings are made to the spirit whom they term the King 
of the Sea. In like manner the Biajus perform their offering to 
the God of Evil, launching a small bark, loaded with all the sins 
and misfortunes of the nation, which are imagined to fall on the 
unhappy crew that may be so unlucky as first to meet with it." 
Dr. Ley den on the Languages and Literature of the Indo-Chinese 

Note 268, p. 157. The violet sherbets. " The sweet-scented 
violet is one of the plants most esteemed, particularly for its great 
use in Sorbet, which they make of violet sugar." Hasselquist. 

" The sherbet they most esteem, and which is drunk by the 
Grand Signer himself, is made of violets and sugar." Tavernier. 

Note 269, p. 157. The pathetic measure of Nava. " Last of 
all she took a guitar, and sung a pathetic air in the measure called 
Nava, which is always used to express the lamentations of absent 
lovers." Persian Tales. 

Note 270, p. 158. No music tintd her parting oar. 
" The Easterns used to set out on their longer voyages with 
music." Ilarmer. 

Note 271, p. 159. 7/i silence through the Gate of Tears. 

" The Gate of Tears, the straits or passage into the Red Sea. 
commonly called Babelmandel. It received this name from the old 
Arabians, on account of the danger of the navigation, and the 

NOTES. 276 

number of shipwrecks by which it was distinguished; which induced 
them to consider as dead, and to wear mourning for, all who had 
the boldness to hazard the passage through it into the Ethiopic 
ocean." Richardson. 

Note 272, p. 159. In the still warm and living breath. 
" I have been told that whensoever an animal falls down dead, 
one or more vultures, unseen before, instantly appear." Pennant. 

Note 273, p. 159. As a young bird of BABYLON. 
" They fasten some writing to the wings of a Bagdat or Baby- 
lonian pigeon." Travels of certain Englishmen. 

Note 274, p. 159. Shooting around their jasper fount. 

" The Empress of Jehan-Guire used to divert herself with feed- 
ing tame fish in her canals, some of which were many years after- 
wards known by fillets of gold, which she caused to be put round 
them." Harris. 

Note 275, p. 159. To tell her ruby rosary. 

" Le Tespih, qui est un chapelet compose" de 99 petites boules 
d'agate, de jaspe, d'ambre, de corail, ou d'autre matiere pre"cieuse. 
J'en ai vu un superbe an Seigneur Jerpos; il etoit de belles et 
grosses perles parfaites et egales, estime trente mille piastres." 

Note 276, p. 162. Like meteor brands as if throughout. 
The meteors that Pliny calls " faces." 

Note 277, p. 163. The Star of EGYPT whose proud light. 
" The brilliant Canopus, unseen in European climates." 

Note 278, p. 163. In the White Islands of the West. 

See Wilford's learned Essays on the Sacred Isles of the West. 

Note 279, p. 163. Sparkles, as 'twere that lightning gem. 

A precious stone of the Indies, called by the ancients Orau- 
nrinn. because it was supposed tube found in places where thunder 
had fallen. Tcrtnllian says it lias a glittering appearance, as if 
there had been fire in it; and the author of the Dissertation in 
Harris's Voyages supposes it to be the opal. 

Note 280, p. 165. Their garb the leathern belt that wraps. 
D'Lierbelot, art. Agduanl. 

276 NOTES. 

Note 281, p. 165. Each yellow vest that rebel hue. 
"The Guebres are known by a dark yellow color, which the 
men affect in their clothes." Thevenot. 

Note 282, p. 165. The Tartar fleece upon their caps. 
" The Kolah or cap, worn by the Persians, is made of the skin 
of the sheep of Tartary." Waring. 

Note 283, p. 169. Open her bosom's glowing veil. 

A frequent image among the Oriental poets. " The nightin- 
gales warbled their enchanting notes, and rent the thin veils of the 
rosebud and the rose." Jami. 

Note 284, p. 172. The sorrowful tree, Nilica. "Blossoms 
of the sorrowful Nyctanthes give a durable color to silk." Re- 
marks on the Husbandry of Bengal, p. 200. Nilica is one of the 
Indian names of this flower. Sir W. Jones. The Persians call 
it Gul. Can-en. 

Note 285, p. 173. That cooling feast the traveller loves. 

" In parts of Kerman. whatever dates are shaken from the 
trees by the wind they do not touch, but leave them for those who 
have not any, or for travellers." Ebn Haukal. 

Note 286, p. 174. The Searchers of the Grave appear. 

The two terrible angels Monkir and Nakir, who are called "the 
Searchers of the Grave" in the " Creed of the orthodox Mahome- 
tans " given by Ockley, vol. ii. 

Note 287, p. 174. The mandrake's charnel leaves at night. 
" The Arabians call the mandrake ' the Devil's candle,' on 
account of its shining appearance in the night." Richardson. 

Note 288, p. 179. Of the still Halls of ISHMONIE. 

For an account of Ishmonie, the petrified city in Upper Egypt, 
where it is said there are many statues of men, women, etc., to be 
seen to this day, see Perry's View of the Levant. 

Note 289, p. 180. And ne'er did saint of ISSA gaze. Jesus. 

Note 290, p. 181. The death-flames that beneath him burn'd. 
The Ghebers say that when Abraham, their great Prophet, was 
thrown into the fire by order of Nimrod, the flame turned in- 

NOTES. 277 

stantly into "a bed of roses, where the child sweetly reposed." 

Of their other Prophet, Zoroaster, there is a story told in Dion 
Prusams, Oral. 30, that the love of wisdom and virtue leading 
him to a solitary life upon a mountain, he found it one day all in 
a flame, shining with celestial fire, out of which he came without 
any harm, and instituted certain sacrifices to God, who, he de- 
clared, then appeared to him. (See Patrick on Exodus iii. 2.) 

Note 291, p. 183. A ponderous sea-horn hung, and blew. 

'* The shell called Siiankos, common to India, Africa, and the 
Mediterranean, and still used in many parts as a trumpet for blow- 
ing alarms or giving signals: it sends forth a deep and hollow 
sound." Pennant. 

Note 292, p. 184. And the white ox-tails stream' d behind. 
" The finest ornament for the horses is made of six large flying 
tassels of long white hair, taken out of the tails of wild oxen, that 
are to he found in some places of the Indies." Thetenot. 

Note 293, p. 18.">. Sweet as the angel ISKAKIL'S. 
" The angel Israfil, W!K> has the most melodious voice of all 
God's creatures." Sale. 

Note 294, p. 188. Wound slow, as through GOLCONDA'S vale. 
See Hoole upon the Story of Sinhad. 

Note 295, p. 190. From the wild covert where he lay. 

" In this thicket upon the banks of the Jordan several sorts of 
wiM beasts are wont to harbor themselves, whose being washed 
out of the covert by the overflowings of the river gave occasion to 
that allusion of Jeremiah, he shall come up like a lion from the 
swelling of Jordan." MaundrelVa Aleppo. 

Note 290, p. 190. Like the wind of the south o'er a summer 
lute blowing. 

"This wind (the Samoor) so softens the strings of lutes that 
they can never be timed while it lasts." Stephen's Persia. 

Note 297, p. 190. With nought but the sea-star to light up her 

"One of the greatest curiosities found in the Persian Gulf is a 
fish wbirli I lie Knglish call Mar-fish. It is circular, and at night 
very luminous, resembling the full moon surrounded by rays.'' 
3/irzu Aim Taleb. 

278 NOTES. 

Note 298, p. 197. And still, when the merry date-season is 

For a description of the merriment of the date-time, of their 
work, their dances, and their return home from the palm-groves 
at the end of autumn with the fruits, see Kaenipfer, Amanitat. 

Note 299, p. 197. That ever the sorrowing sea-bird has wept. 
Some naturalists have imagined that amber is a concretion of 
the tears of birds. (See Trevoux, Chambers.) 

Note 300, p. 197. We'll seek where the sands of the Caspian 
are sparkling. 

" The bay Kieselarke, which is otherwise called the Golden Bay, 
the sand whereof shines as fire." Struy. 

Note 301, p. 198. The summary criticism of the Chabuk.' 
" The application of whips or rods." Dubois. 

Note 302, p. 199. Chief Holder of the Girdle of Beautiful 
Forms. Kaempfer mentions such an officer among the attendants 
of the King of Persia, and calls him " formse corporis aestinialor." 
His business w r as, at stated periods, to measure the la.lies of the 
Haram by a sort of regulation-girdle, whose limits it was not 
thought graceful to exceed. If any of them outgrew this standard 
of shape, they were reduced by abstinence till they came within 
proper bounds. 

Note 303, p. 199. Forbidden River. The Attock. 

" Akbar on his way ordered a fort to be built upon the Nilab, 
which he called Attock, which means in the Indian language For- 
bidden; for, by the superstition of the Hindoos, it was held unlaw- 
ful to cross that river." Dow's Hindustan. 

Note 304, p. 200. One genial star that rises ni<jhtly over their 
heads. " The inhabitants of this country (Zinge) are never 
afflicted with sadness or melancholy; on this subject the Sheikh 
Abu-al-Kheir-Azhari has the following distich: 

" ' Who is the man without care or sorrow, (tell) that I may rub 
my hand to him. 

"'(Behold) the Zingians, without care or sorrow, frolicsome 
with tipsiness and mirth.' 

" The philosophers have discovered that the cause of this cheer- 
fulness proceeds from the influence of the star Soheil or Canopus, 

NOTES. 279 

which rises over them every night." Extract from a Geographi- 
cal Perxian Manuscript called Heft Aklim, or the Seven Climates, 
translated by W. Ouseley, Esq. 

Note 305, p. 200. Lizards. " The lizard Stellio. The Arabs 
call it Hardun. The Turks kill it, for they imagine that by de- 
clining the head it mimics them when they say their prayers." 

Note 300, p. 200. Royal Gardens. For these particulars re- 
specting Hussun Abdaul, I am indebted to the very interesting 
Introduction of Mr. Elphinstone's work upon Caubul. 

Note 307, p. 201. It was too delicious. " As you enter at 
that liazar, without the gate of Damascus, you see the Green 
Mosque, so called because it hath a steeple faced with green glazed 
bricks, which render it very resplendent; it is covered at top with 
a p.-ivilion of the same stuff. The Turks say this mosque was 
made in that place, because Mahomet being come so far, would 
not enter the town, saying it was too delicious." Thevenot. This 
reminds one of the following pretty passage in Isaac Walton: 
" When I sat last on this primrose bank, and looked down these 
meadows, I thought of them as Charles the Emperor did of the city 
of Florence, ' that they were too pleasant to be looked on, but only 
on holidays.' " 

Note 308, p. 201. The Rultana Nourmahal, the Light of the 
Hnruni. Nourmahal signifies Light of the liar mi. She was after- 
wards called Nourjehan, or the Light of the World. 

Note 300, p. 201. The small shining fishes of which she was so 
fond. See note 274, p. 322. 

Note 310, p. 201. l[nro>iii-al-Itasi'hid and his fair mixtresa 
Murida. " Flaroun-al-Kaachld, cinquiiMiic Khalifedcs Alussides, 
sY'tant mi jour brouillt- avcc tine de st-s maiircsses nommt ; e Mari- 
dah, <ju'il aimoit cependant jusqu'a 1'exres, etortte mdsintclligeiice 
ayant d ; ja dun; quclqut! terns, cominem;a a s'mnnyrr. (iiafar 
Hanuaki, son favori, qui sVn ap<-reut, romiuaiida ii Abbas hen- 
Ahnaf, px<vllent \H> -te de c tons-lit, de coin;>or qu< > l-|ii>.<4 vers 
sur lo sujet de < % ette hrouillcric. Cc portt: ext'-i-iila 1'ordn 1 'If (Jia- 
far, qui lit clianUr ces vcrs par MoiHsali on pn'-scniM' du Kli ilifc, et 
ce prince fut trllcini-ut touch*'' di 1 la t<'ii Iri'ssi' ih'.s vors du jxn'-te ot 
de la douceur de la voix du musiricn. qiril alia aussitot trouver 
Maridah, ct fit sa palx av-c Hie." D' ll<rl,>l,>t. 

280 NOTES. 

Note 311, p. 202. With its roses the brightest that earth ever 

" The rose of Kashmire, for its brilliancy and delicacy of odor, 
has long been proverbial in the East." Forster. 

Note 312, p. 202. Bound the waist of some fair Indian dancer 
is ringing. 

" Tied round her waist the zone of bells, that sounded with rav- 
ishing melody." Song of Jayadeva. 

Note 313, p. 203. The young aspen-trees. 
" The little isles in the lake of Cachemire are set with arbors 
and large-leaved aspen-trees, slender and tall." Bernier. 

Note 314, p. 203. Shines in through the mountainous portal 
that opes. 

" The Tuckt Suliman, the name bestowed by the Mahometans 
on this hill, forms one side of a grand portal to the Lake." 

Note 315, p. 203. The Valley holds its Feast of Roses. 
" The Feast of Roses continues the whole time of their remain- 
ing in bloom." (See Pietro cle la Valle.) 

Note 316, p. 203. The Flow'ret of a hundred leaves. 
" Gul sad berk, the Rose of a hundred leaves. I believe a par- 
ticular species." Ouseley. 

Note 317, p. 203. Behind the palms of BABAMOULE. Ber- 

Note 318, p. 204. On BKLA'S hills is less alive. 

A place mentioned in the Toozek Jehangeery, or Memoirs of 
Jehan-Guire, where there is an account of the beds of saffron- 
flowers about Cashmere. 

Note 319, p. 205. Sung from his lighted gallery. 

" It is the custom among the women to employ the Maazeen to 
chant from the gallery of the nearest minaret, which on that occa- 
sion is illuminated, and the women assembled at the house respond 
at intervals with a ziraleet or joyous chorus." Russel. 

Note 320, p. 205. From gardens, where the silken swing. 

" The sw ing is a favorite pastime in the East, as promoting a 

NOTES. 281 

circulation of air, extremely refreshing in those sultry climates." 

" Tlie swings are adorned with festoons. This pastime is accom- 
panied with the music of voices and of instruments, hired by the 
masters of the swings." Thevenot. 

Note 321, p. 205. Among the tents that line the way. 
"At the keeping of the Feast of Roses we beheld an infinite 
number of tents pitched, with such a crowd of men, women, boys, 
and girls, with music, dances," etc., etc. Herbert. 

Note 322, p. 205. An ansicer in song to the kiss of each wave. 

" An old commentator of the Chou-King says, the ancients hav- 
ing remarked that a current of water made some of the stones near 
its banks send forth a sound, they detached some of them, and 
being charmed with the delightful sound they emitted, constructed 
King or musical instruments of them." Grosier. 

This miraculous quality has been attributed also to the shore of 
Attica. " II u jus littus, ait Capella, concentum musicum illisis 
terne undis reddere, quod propter tantam eruditionis vim puto dic- 
tum." Ludoc. Vives in Auyustin. de Cititat. Dei, lib. xviii. c. 8. 

Note 323, p. 200. So felt the magnificent Son of Acbar. 
Jehan-Guire was the son of the Great Acbar. 

Note 324, p. 207. Yet playful as Peris just loos'd from their 

In the wars of the Dives with the Peris, whenever the former 
took the latter prisoners, " they shut them up in iron capes, and 
hung them on the highest trees. Here they were visited by their 
companions, who brought them the choicest odors." IHchardson. 

Note 325, p. 207. Of thejfoiccrs of this plain' t though treas- 
ures id-re there. 

In the Malay language the same word signifies women and 

Note 320, p. 207. lie saro that City of 

The capital of Shadukiam. Sec note 1!>5, p. 203. 

Note :J27, p. 208. He sits, withjiinc'rctxfrttcr'd round. 
See tin- representation of the Kastern Cupid, pinioned closely 
round with wreaths of (lowers in 1'ieart's (Vr< ; moiii< * / liyiciuica. 

282 NOTES. 

Note 328, p. 208. Lose all their glory ivhen he flies. 

" Among the birds of Tonquin is a species of goldfinch, which, 
sings so melodiously that it is called the Celestial Bird. Its wings, 
when it is perched, appear variegated with beautiful colors, but 
when it flies they lose all their splendor." Grosier. 

Note 329, p. 209. Whose pinion knows no resting-place. 
"As these birds on the Bosphorus are never known to rest, 
they are called by the French 'les aines damnees.' " Dalloway. 

Note 330, p. 209. //' there his darling rose is not. 

" You may place a hundred handfuls of fragrant herbs and 
flowers before the nightingale, yet he wishes not, in his constant 
heart, for more than the sweet breath of his beloved rose." 

Note 331, p. 210. From the great Mantra, which around. 

" Hi: is said to have found the great Mantra, spell or talisman, 
through which he ruled over the elements and spirits of all denom- 
inations." Wilford. 

Note 332, p. 210. To the gold gems of AFRIO. 
"The gold jewels of Jinnie, which are called by the Arabs El 
Herrez, from the supposed charm they contain." Jackson. 

Note 333, p. 210. To keep him from the Sillim's harm. 
" A demon, supposed to haunt woods, etc., in a human shape." 

Note 334, p. 210. Her ScUm's smile to NOURMAHAL. 
The name of Jehan-Guire before his accession to the throne. 

Note 335, p. 211. Anemones and Seas of Gold. 
" Hemasagara, or the Sea of Gold, with flowers of the brightest 
gold color." Sir W. Jones. 

Note 336, p. 211. Their buds on CAMADEVA'S quiver. 

" This tree (the Nagacesara) is one of the most delightful on 
earth, and the delicious odor of its blossoms justly gives them a 
place in the quiver of Camadeva, or the God of Love." Id. 

Note 337, p. 212. Is caWd the Mistress of the Night. 
" The Malayans style the tuberose (Pvlianthes tuberosa) San- 
dal Mafem, or the Mistress of ilie Night." Pennant. 

NOTES. 283 

Note 338, p. 212. That wander through ZAM ARA'S shades. 

The people of the Batta country in Sumatra (of which Zamara 
is one of the ancient names), " when not engaged in war, lead an 
idle, inactive life, passing the day in playing on a kind of flute, 
crowned with garlands of flowers, among which the globe-amaran- 
thus, a native of the country, mostly prevails." Marsden. 

Note 339, p. 212. From the divine Amrita tree. 

" The largest and richest sort (of the Jambn, or rose-apple) is 
called Arnrita, or immortal, and the mythologists of Tibet apply 
the same word to a celestial tree, bearing ambrosial fruit." Sir 
W. Jones. 

Note 340, p. 212. Doicn to the basil tuft, that waves. 

Sweet basil, called Ilayhan in Persia, and generally found in 

"The women in Egypt go, at least two days in the week, to 
pray and weep at the sepulchres of the dead; and the custom then 
is to throw upon the tombs a sort of herb, which the Arabs call 
rihan, and which is our sweet basil." Maillet, Lett. 10. 

Note 341, p. 212. To scent the desert and the dead. 
" In the Great Desert are found many stalks of lavender and 
rosemary." Asiatic Researches. 

Note 342, p. 213. That blooms on a leaflets bough. 
"The almond-tree, with white flowers, blossoms on the bare 
branches." Ilassclquist. 

Note 343, p. 213. Inhabit the mountain-herb, that dyes. 

An herb on Mount Lihamis, which is said to communicate a 
yellow golilen hue to the teeth of the goats and other animals that 
graze upon it. 

Niebuhr thinks this may he the herb which the Eastern alchy- 
mlsts look to as a means of making gold. " Most of those alchy- 
mical enthusiasts think themselves sure of success, if they could 
but find out the herb which gilds tho teeth and gives a yellow 
color to the flesh of the sheep that eat it. Even the oil of this 
plant must be of a golden color. It is called llfim-hixrhnt cd dab." 

Father Jerom Dandini, however, asserts that the teeth of the 
goats at Mount Lihanus are of a ai'/rrr color; and adds, "This 
confirms to me that which I observed in f'andia: to wit, that the 
animal- that live on Mount Ida cat a certain herb which render* 

284 NOTES. 

their teeth of a golden color; which, according to my judgment, 
cannot otherwise proceed than from the mines which are under 
ground." Dandini's Voyage to Mount Libauus. 

Note 344, p. 214. Of AZAB blew, icas full of scents. The 
myrrh country. 

Note 345, p. 214. Where Love himself, of old, lay sleeping. 

"This idea (of deities living in shells) was not unknown to the 
Greeks, who represent the young Nerites, one of the Cupids, as 
living in shells on the shores of the Red Sea." Wilford. 

Note 340, p. 215. From CHINDARA'S warbling fount I come. 
"A fahulous fountain, where instruments are said to be con- 
stantly playing." liichardson. 

Note 347, p. 215. The cinnamon-seed from grove to grove. 

" The Pompadour pigeon is the species, which, by carrying the 
fruit of the cinnamon to different places, is a great disseminator of 
this valuable tree." (See Brown's Illustr. Tab. 19.) 

Note 348, p. 215. The past, the present, and future of 

" Whenever our pleasure arises from a succession of sounds, it is 
a perception of a complicated nature, made up of a sensation of 
the present sound or note, and an idea or remembrance of the fore- 
going, while their mixture and concurrence produce such a myste- 
rious delight, as neither could have produced alone. And it is often 
heightened by an anticipation of the succeeding notes. Thus 
Sense, Memory, and Imagination are conjunctively employed." 
Gerrard on Taste. 

This is exactly the Epicurean theory of Pleasure, as explained 
by Cicero: "Quocirca corpus gaudere tanuliu, dum pra?sentem 
sentiat voluptatem: animum et praesentem percipere pariter cum 
corpore, et prospicere venientem, nee praeteritam pneterfluere 

Madame de Stae'l accounts upon the same principle for the grat- 
ification we derive from rhyme : " Elle est I' image de 1 esperance 
et du souvenir. Un son nous fait desirer celui qui doit lui repon- 
dre, et quand le second retentit il nous rappelle celui qui vient de 
nous echapper." 

Note 340, p. 216. Whose glimpses are again withdrawn. 
"The Persians have two mornings, the Soobhi Kazim and the 
Soobhi Sadig, the false and the real daybreak. They account for 

NOTES. 285 

this phenomenon in a most whimsical manner. They say that as 
the sun rises from behind the Kohi Qaf (Mount Caucasus), it passes 
a hole perforated through that mountain, and that darting its rays 
through it, it is the cause of the Soobhi Kazim, or this temporary 
appearance of daybreak. As it ascends, the earth is again veiled 
in darkness, until the sun rises above the mountain and brings 
with it the Soobhi Sadig, or real morning." Scott Waring. He 
thinks Milton may allude to this, when he says: 
" Ere the blabbing Eastern scout, 
The nice morn, on the Indian steep 
From her cabin'd loop-hole peep." 

Note 350, p. 217. In his magn( Shalimar. 

" In the centre of the plain, as it approaches the Lake, one of 
the Delhi Emperors, I believe Shah Jehan, constructed a spacious 
garden called the Shalimar, which is abundantly stored with fruit- 
trees and flowering shrubs. Seme of the rivulets which intersect 
the plain are led into a canal at the back of the garden, and flow- 
ing through its centre, or occasionally thrown into a variety of 
water-works, compose the chief beauty of the Shalimar. To deco- 
rate this spot, the Mogul princes of India have displayed an equal 
magnificence and taste; especially Jehan Gheer, who, with the en- 
chanting Xoor Mahl, made Kashmire his usual residence during 
the summer months. On arches thrown over the canal are erected, 
at equal distances, four or five suites of apartments, each consisting 
of a saloon, with four rooms at the angles, where the followers of 
the court attend, and the servants prepare sherbets, coffee, and the 
hookah. The frame of the doors of the principal saloon is com- 
posed of pieces of a stone of a black color, streaked with yellow 
lines, and of a closer grain and higher polish than porphyry. They 
were taken, it is said, from a Hindoo temple, by one of the Mogul 
princes, ami are esteemed of great value." Forstcr. 

Note 351, p. 217. Of beauty from its fount* and stream*. 

*' The waters of Carhemir are the mo-t renowned from its being 
supposed that the Cachemirians are indebted for their beauty to 
them." All Yezili. 

Note- :if>2, p. 217. Sinying In ytmlrn* oj the South. 

" From him I received the following little Ca/./el, or I.ove Song, 
the notes of which he committed to pajxT from the voice of one of 
those singing girls of C'ashmere. who wander from that delightful 
valley over the various parts of India." 1'rrninn Miscellanies. 

286 NOTES. 

Note 353, p. 217. Delicate as the roses there. 

"The roses of the Jinan Kile, or the Garden of the Nile (at- 
tached to the Emperor of Marocco's palace), are unequalled, and 
mattresses are made of their leaves for the men of rank to recline 
upon." Jackson. 

Note 354, p. 218. With Paphian diamonds in their locks. 

" On the side of a mountain near Paphos there is a cavern which 
produces the most beautiful rock-crystal. On account of its brill- 
iancy it has been called the Paphian diamond." Mariti. 

Note 355, p. 218. On the gold meads of Candahar. 

" There is a part of Candahar, called Peria, or Fairy Land." 
Thevenot. In some of those countries to the north of India, vege- 
table gold is supposed to be produced. 

Note 356, p. 218. Had been by magic all set flying. 
" These are the butterflies which are called in the Chinese lan- 
guage Flying Leaves. Some of them have such shining colors, 
and are so variegated, that they may be called flying flowers; and 
indeed they are always produced in the finest flower-gardens." 

Note 357, p. 218. The features of young Arab maids. 

" The Arabian women wear black masks with little clasps pret- 
tily ordered." Carreri. Niebuhr mentions their showing but one 
eye in conversation. 

Note 358, p. 219. On CASEIN'S hills. 

" The golden grapes of Casbin." Description of Persia. 

Note 359, p. 219. And sunniest apples that CAUBUL 
" The fruits exported from Caubul are apples, pears, pome- 
granates," etc. Elphinstone. 

Note 360, p. 219. In all its thousand gardens bears. 

"We sat down under a tree, listened to the birds, and talked 
with the son of our Mehmaundar about our country and Caubul, of 
which he gave an enchanting account: that city and its 100,000 
gardens," etc. Id. 

Note 361, p. 219. MALAYA'S nectar 1 d mangusteen. 
" The mangusteen, the most delicate fruit in the world ; the 
pride of the Malay islands." Marsden. 

NOTES. 287 

Note 362, p. 219. Seed of the Sun, from IRAN'S land. 
" A delicious kind of apricot, called by the Persians Tokm-ek- 
shems, signifying sun's seed." Description of Persia. 

Note 363, p. 219. With rich conserve of Visna cherries. 
" Sweetmeats, in a crystal cup, consisting of rose-leaves in con- 
serve, with lemon of Visna cherry, orange flowers," etc. Russel. 

Note 364, p. 219. Feed on in EKAC'S rocky dells. 
"Antelopes, cropping the fresh berries of Erac." The Moal- 
lakat, Poem of Tarafa. 

Note 365, p. 219. And urns of porcelain Jrom that isle. 

Mauri-ga-Sima, an island near Formosa, supposed to have been 
sunk in the sea for the crimes of its inhabitants. The vessels 
which the fishermen and divers bring up from it are sold at an 
immense price in China and Japan. (See Kaempfer.) 

Note 366, p. 219. Amber Rosolli. Persian Tales. 

Note 367, p. 219. From vineyards of the Green-Sea gushing. 
The white wine of Kishma. 

Note 368, p. 219. Offered a city's wealth. 

" The King of Zeilan is said to have the very finest ruby that 
was ever seen. Kublai-Klian sent and offered the value of a city 
for it, but the Kins answered he would not give it for the treasure 
of th world." Marco Polo. 

Note 309, p. 220. Upon a rosy lotus wreath. 
The Indians feign that Cupid was first swn floating down the 
Ganges on the yymphiea yelumbo. (See Pennant.) 

Note ;J7<), p. 220. When warm they Hue from TEFI.IS' brook*. 
Teflis is celebrated for its natural warm baths. (See Ebn 

Note 371, p. 220. Of a syrinda. 

" Tli Indian Syritula, or guitar." Symez. 

Note 372, p. 220. It i this, it In this. 

" Around the exterior of the Dewan Khar* (a building of Shah 
AlliimN), In the cornice are the following lines in letters of p>M 
Upon a ground of whitu marble: ' //' there be a paradise ujwn 
earth, it is this, it is this.' " Franklin. 

288 NOTES. 

Note 373, p. 221. As the flower of the Amr a just op y d by a bee. 

" Delightful are the flowers of the Amra trees on the mountain- 
tops, while the murmuring bees pursue their voluptuous toil." 
Song of Jayadeva. 

Note 374, p. 221. And precious tueir tears as that rain from 
the sky. 

" The Nisan or drops of spring rain, which they believe to pro- 
duce pearls if they fall into shells." Richardson. 

Note 375, p. 221. Who for wine of this earth left the foun- 
tains above. 

For an account of the share which wine had in the fall of the 
angels, see Mariti. 

Note 376, p. 221. Of ISKAFIL, the Angel, there. 
The Angel of Music. See note 293, p. 185. 

Note 377, p. 224. When first 'tis by the lapwing found. 
The Hudhud, or Lapwing, is supposed to have the poweV of 
discovering water under ground. 

Note 378, p. 226. Of her dream. See p. 157. 

Note 379, p. 226. Like that painted porcelain. " The Chi- 
nese had formerly the art of painting on the side of porcelain ves- 
sels fish and other animals, which were only perceptible when the 
vessel was full of some liquor. They call this species Kia-tsin ; 
that is, azure is put in press, on account of the manner in which 
the azure is laid on." " They are every now and then trying to 
recover the art of this magical painting, but to no purpose." 

Note 380, p. 227. House of Azor. An eminent carver of 
idols, said in the Koran to be father to Abraham. "I have such 
a lovely idol as is not to be met with in the house of Azor." 

Note 381, p. 227. The Unequalled. Kachmire be Nazeer. 

Note 382, p. 228. Miraculous fountains." The pardonable 
superstition of the sequestered inhabitants has multiplied the 

NOTES. 289 

places of worship of Mahadeo, of Beshan, and of Brama. All 
Cashmere is holy land, and miraculous fountains abound." 
Major Kennel's Memoirs of a Map of Hindostan. 

Jehan-Guire mentions "a fountain in Cashmere called Tirnagh, 
which signifies a snake; probably because some large snake had 
formerly been seen there." "During the lifetime of my father, 
I went twice to this fountain, which is about twenty coss from the 
city of Cashmere. The vestiges of places of worship and sanctity 
are to be traced without number amongst the ruins and the caves 
which are interspersed in its neighborhood." Toozek Jehan- 
geery. Vide Asiat. Misc. vol. ii. 

There is another account of Cashmere by Abul-Fazil, the author 
of the Ayin-Acbaree, "who," says Major Rennel, "appears to 
have caught some of the enthusiasm of the valley, by his descrip- 
tion of the holy places in it." 

Note 383, p. 228. Roofed with flowers. " On a standing roof 
of wood is laid a covering of fine earth, which shelters the build- 
ing from the great quantity of snow that falls in the winter season. 
This fence communicates an equal warmth in winter, as a refresh- 
ing coolness in the summer season, when the tops of the houses, 
which are planted with a variety of flowers, exhibit at a distance 
the spacious view of a beautifully chequered parterre." Forster. 

Note 384, p. 228. The triple-colored tortoise-shell of Pegu. 
" Two hundred slaves there are who have no other office than to 
hunt the woods and marshes for triple-colored tortoises for the 
King's Vivary. Of the shells of these also lanterns are made." 
Vincent le Blanc's Tratels. 

Note :>85, p. 228. Like the meteors of the north as they are 
seen by those hunters. For a description of the Aurora Borealis 
as it appears to these hunters, vide Encyclopedia. 

Note 386, p. 229. Odoriferous wind. This wind, which is to 
blow from Syria Damascena, is, according to the Mahometans, one 
of the signs of the Last Day's approach. 

Another of the signs is, " Great distress in the world, so that a 
man when he passes by another's grave shall say, ' Would to God 
I were in his place!' " Sale's Preliminary Discourse. 

Note 387, p. 230. As precious as the Cerulean Throne of 
Conlnunju. " On Mahommed J-'haw's return to Koolburga (the 
capital of Dckkan), he made a grtat festival, and mounted thia 

290 NOTES. 

throne with much pomp and magnificence, calling it Firozeh or 
Cerulean. I have heard some old persons, who saw the throne 
Firozeh in the reign of Sultan Mainood Bhamenee, describe it. 
They say that it was in length nine feet, and three in breadth; 
made of ebony, covered with plates of pure gold, and set with 
precious stones of immense value. Every prince of the house of 
Bhamenee, who possessed this throne, made a point of adding to it 
some rich stones; so that when, in the reign of Sultan Mamood, it 
was taken to pieces, to remove some of the jewels to be set in vases 
and cups, the jewellers valued it at one corore of oons (nearly four 
millions sterling). I learned also that it was called Firozeh from 
being partly enamelled of a sky-blue color, which was in time 
totally concealed by the number of jewels." Ferishta. 

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